


What Happened Next...

by hips_of_steel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6764665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hips_of_steel/pseuds/hips_of_steel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman stood at the edge of the battlefield, panting despite the snow and ice cold wind that swirled around her.<br/>Red and white had once been the colors she had bravely fought under, waving proud above her head as she tore down the enemy.<br/>Now, she had finally met her match. One that truly threatened to destroy her and everything she stood for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! This is the second version of this story, which I am currently in the middle of editing! Leave comments and kudos if you like it, and the editing might go faster!
> 
> All translations in the end notes.

The woman stood at the edge of the battlefield, panting despite the snow and ice cold wind that swirled around her. Her long curly blond hair was pulled back in a braid, and that was good, for she was covered in sweat, blood, and filth. She swept aside a wayward curl, and then straightened her entire body. Her posture was good, her stance firm. She didn't even spare a glance for the bodies around her. It was not that she felt no sorrow, for she mourned their bodies as much as their wives would. No, she spared them no glances for her eyes had already locked onto her opponent. She had no time to grieve in this moment.

  
He was still clean himself, having barely done any of the work. He wore a smile that was cold and cruel, lacking a single trace of warmth in it, and his pale violet eyes showed no signs of mercy. His coat was of a pale material, no doubt warmer than hers, for she had worn this coat through many battles, and the wear was growing obvious. His silver hair almost blended into the white of the snow behind him, except for the fact that after the battle, the snow was more red than white.

  
Red and white had once been the colors she had bravely fought under, waving proud above her head as she tore down the enemy.

  
Now, she had finally met her match. One that truly threatened to destroy her and everything she stood for.

  
Her skills had always been her invisibility, her quietness. It allowed her to survive. It made her forgettable. Often, people thought she was weak, and she allowed them to believe that, acting polite and never being as rude as her brother had once been.

  
The assumption of weakness was what made her strong. A hunter in the winter had to be quiet, fast, strong, and intelligent. This was what she was. A being of ice, snow, and wind. A child of a land of winter.

  
But he was all that and more. And, although she hated to admit it, he had spent more time fighting than she had.  
After all, he had been alive for centuries longer than she had.

  
The young children France and England had raised had been sheltered from the outside world for the most part, besides the wrath of their fathers and each other. Not until Pearl Harbor had one of them known the true cruelty of a bitter, uncaring world on their own homeland. They had fought, won, and waged war for years, but never had it affected them so much before that day.

  
The stare shared across the battlefield was interrupted as something fell from the sky. She knew what it was the moment she saw it fluttering down through the air. She had prayed her people would hold out. They were strong. Winter was as much of an ally to them as it was to him.

  
But the loss of her brother had affected them too deeply, their grief and fear impossible to overcome. Their hope was simply that the man standing before her would have mercy if they surrendered.

  
She knew him too well to believe that was true.

  
He stepped forward, and she watched as the wind blew the flag straight to him, as though to betray her. He snatched it out of the air, admiring the colored cloth. She clenched her teeth in anger. _How could they give up so easily?! This was not the nature of her people, to lay down like a rug for men like these!_

  
He continued to gaze at the flag. The red sides, the white center, and there, framed within the white, a red maple leaf. Her symbol. Her hope. Her flag.

  
He approached her. She wanted to snatch it from his hands, show him she was not so easily destroyed. But she was frozen in place, forbidden from doing what she wished. The will of her people and her government trumped all the desires of her own heart.

  
As she heard the crunch of the ice, she reminded herself of everything that had occurred. _He cut down your lover. He destroyed the men who raised you. He killed your brother slowly, ripping him apart piece by piece until it all disappeared. He murdered your other family members in cold blood._

  
He reached a hand out to touch her face, and the spell was broken. She snarled, and shoved him away. At least she had that much control over her own body.

  
"You are still feisty, мой ангел." He stated with a laugh, those menacing eyes flashing with grim determination.

  
"Don't touch me, you bâtard."

  
He chuckled as though this was all a most amusing game. "Oh, but do you not know what this cloth means, ангел? It means your people have given up. They have surrendered to me. It was a challenge, I admit, but at least you fought to the end, unlike the coward you once called brother..."

  
She slammed into his chest, her whole being filled with rage. She would not stop! But her rebellion was cut short by the sound of fabric being ripped.

  
She recoiled from the sound, her heart racing. her whole body tense, tears springing to her eyes. _"No!"_

  
That flag had flown at Ottawa. It was as if the will of her people was being torn, rather than simply a symbol of their land. She could see the tear, still small, still repairable. _Oh, please don't do it! Please!_

  
"It is fun, да?" He said, flashing her a grin which could have frozen a man solid in an instant.

  
"No, it's not fun. Please, don't tear it. Please!" She heard herself beg through her tears.

  
He paused for a second, as though he was genuinely moved by her display of tears and her voice, and then, with a laugh like thunder, he tore straight through it, the flag as broken as her nation.

  
She screamed, the images of the dead flooding through her mind, her body wracked with pain, as people began to realize they were no longer going to be protected by their nation, for it no longer existed.

  
She hadn't realized she'd fallen to her knees until the ice cut into them, the blood spilling from the cuts. She barely noticed that either. They would be announcing it now. After years, after everything else, the last stronghold had fallen. Canada was no longer.

  
She wasn't sure how long she lay in the snow and ice, her screams and wails slowly fading into whimpers and sobs which shook her entire body. She wished she could die. She wanted to die. To be conquered like this... She understood why the others had ended themselves rather than face this.

  
"Нет, ангел. You are stronger than that. Don't give up. It will only make things harder in the end." She heard his voice taunt her. She wanted to snarl, spit in his face, or claw out his eyes, but all she could do was cry and shiver, as she tried to pull herself away from him.

  
Night fell, and then she felt his arms wrap around her, lifting her up.

  
"Come, ангел, let's take you home." He said softly as he stood, carrying her like a rag doll.

  
She had no strength left to fight him.

***

She awoke when a gentle hand brushed against her brow.

  
She opened her eyes slowly as the hand moved across her head. Maybe this war was just a terrible dream. Maybe she'd actually been very sick, and papa and father had been taking care of her. She'd open her eyes and find both of them looking at her with a worried expression, and then they'd make her favorite foods and tell her to take it easy until she got better. Alfred would come by with hamburgers, gifts, and grins, and chat away all day, not even caring if she fell asleep in the middle of his chatter.

  
But none of those hopes were true. Instead, she found herself looking at a pair of blue eyes on a face framed by shoulder length brown hair. She recognized the face at once, for he had always been a kind soul.

  
"Lithu-Lithuania, where am I?" She asked, struggling to sit up.

  
"This is your apartment. In Ottawa." He responded, and then laid a hand back on her brow. "Lay back down, you don't need to make yourself sick." He said in a comforting voice. She knew he had been a doctor once, and he knew what she needed to do.

  
"Where is... Kumajirou? Is he...?" She began, noticing the absence of the ever present weight at the end of her bed.  
Lithuania didn't look at her, suddenly turning away. As panic rose in her breast, she began to shout.

  
"Kumakichi!" She yelled. "Kumayoshi!" She found strength in her worry, sitting up fast, though the feeling of her brain being hammered wasn't worth it. "Kumaji!"

  
Suddenly the door was flung open, but it wasn't a protective polar bear who was standing there. It was a young woman with a knife. _Belarus!_

  
"Be silent!" She snarled. "Your bear is fine." She snapped, obviously annoyed by Canada's behavior. But Canada could care less. She needed the bear, damnit!

  
"I want to see him. I want Kuma!" She screamed, not caring that she sounded like a child throwing a tantrum.

  
The young woman darted to her, and grabbed her hands in a threatening manner, shoving Lithuania to the side in the process. "Perhaps you'd like a few broken fingers as well..." She threatened, and Canada opened her mouth to respond.

  
"Belarus, enough."

  
They all turned at that. There, in the door, stood _the enemy_ , his gaze cutting into her.

  
"I must say, Canada, your determination makes me believe you could be very useful, if properly trained." He continued, ignoring the presence of the other two nations in the room and as though they had been speaking before this moment.

  
"I won't bow to you, you _merde_!" She shouted back. Her people had surrendered, but that didn't mean they were happy about it, and that alone gave her a small bit of strength to fight back with. They needed her still. She was still alive!

  
He didn't even look surprised at her words or tone. "Lithuania, Belarus, return home today. I will finish up business here." His tone made it clear he was dismissing the other two nations.

  
Lithuania nodded, and then gave Canada a nervous smile, the only form of encouragement he could give her. Belarus muttered something unintelligible under her breath, and then followed Lithuania out of the room.

  
The door closed.

  
And he was on the _wrong_ side of it.

  
"You have fought desperately against this inevitable ending, Canada. Why not give up now, while you are still ahead?" Russia said, laughter in his eyes at the statement. He knew that deep down, she was just like her brother. She would not kneel to him willingly.

  
"Aller te faire foutre, Russie." She said, meeting his gaze head on, violet eyes meeting lavender, anger meeting amusement.

  
He chuckled at her obvious resistance. "Why would I fuck myself when I have something better right here in front of me?"

  
The silent threat lacked subtlety, yet at the same time, the message was obvious. She wanted to puke at the thought of him touching her and barely managed to keep his gaze. The way the rest of her body moved in response, however, was enough of an answer.

  
He smiled. "There is the face I was hoping for. Fear. You resemble America so much, little Kanata..."

  
He had reached out to brush a stray hair behind her ear, and she yanked back, struggling to maintain her composure. She wiped her face blank, trying not to scream.

  
"Yet it wasn't America you loved." He continued as he pulled his hand away, happier by the moment for every reaction he got from her. "Tell me, Kanata. How did you react when you heard what had happened to that fool named Prussia? How he tried to protect Germany, how he fell? How pretty his blood looked on the marble floor..."

  
"Shut up!" She shouted.

  
"Or what about your father? He died well, protecting the body of your papa. Silly France. He had redeeming qualities. I would have spared him. Yet, he'd rather put a bullet in his own brain than survive. Poor England tried to stop me from taking the body. In the end, England just proved he had no use, His old loyalties and affections to the others were just too deep."

  
Canada felt the memories run through her head, crying, screaming.

  
"Your foolish brother was a challenge, I admit, but he should have expected my strategy. He was too busy watching Cuba to realize I had a claim on him. His death was wonderful to watch, him fading away slowly, surrounded by screaming citizens..."

  
_"THAT'S ENOUGH, RUSSIA!"_

  
She stopped, realizing that the shout which had just echoed through the room had been her own.

  
Russia simply smiled darkly, pleased by yet another reaction. "I shall return soon then, ангел. Until then, I am confining you to this room. Oh, and about your bear. He is being taken good care of, but he is not nearby, so do not waste your dreams by praying for a rescue."

  
Canada lunged for the door as Russia stepped outside of it, but it snapped shut and locked with the sound of a click before she could yank it open again.

  
_Trapped._

_  
I'm trapped in this house with Russia._

***

The signing over of her lands felt like a betrayal to her very nature, a traitorous act to all who had fought and died not only for her, but the other nations as well. She guessed that now, with America gone, part of the spirit which had kept him always fighting had been absorbed into her.

  
She vowed she would not lose her identity, or her hope.

  
They allowed her to lower her flag. She embraced it as an old friend, and instead of folding it military style, she wrapped it around her body, an extra shelter from the wind. This might be the last time for several years she would hold her flag. Or perhaps, the last time for the rest of her life.

  
She watched the stripes of white, red, and blue raised on the flagpole. The last free nations conquered.

  
Much of the Caribbean now flew under Cuba's star.

  
Asia under China's red.

  
And Canada had no doubt the other continents had been divided up as well. She had had no news of the others for so long. She no longer knew who lived and who had died.

  
The maple leaf lay across her back, the red pulled up in front of her. One of his leaders tried to take it from her, to destroy it, but he stopped them swiftly. That was surprising to her, but she said nothing. They instead left her there, staring at the new flag, while wrapped in the old. She refused to listen to their words, though if she had tried, she would have understood them perfectly. But for now, she simply stayed there in silence.

  
He waited with her as she stared at his flag, raised on her soil, as though she were a mesmerized child. She wanted to make him leave, to make him disappear, to tear down his flag and replace it with her own once again, but she no longer had the strength. That was what happened when your people simply just gave up. The supernatural strength possessed by both of the North American siblings was gone.

  
Finally, he spoke again. "We must be getting back. Do you need help folding the flag?"

  
She was surprised by the question, and in her shock she nodded. Silently they folded it, Russia handling her flag with as much care as he would handle his own. She took off her backpack, and carefully placed it within. She would buy a proper flag frame for it later if they allowed her to keep it.

  
He opened the car door for her, and she got in, showing no resistance. He drove her home in silence. She gazed out the window, wondering if she would ever be able to feel anything again besides violation and fear.

  
When they reached the apartment, he didn't enter, but instead stopped her for a moment, pulling something out of his pocket as he stood on the other side of the door.

  
"I am sorry, ангел. I truly am." He said, sounding remorseful.

  
She was confused by his tone and actions, until he grabbed her hand and shoved the object into her hands, before turning and running down the stairs. He was headed home tonight.

  
Once she had closed and locked the door, despite knowing he now owned a key to her apartment, she opened her fist, and realized just what she was holding.

  
_"Come on, Gil! Just let me try it on once!"She remembered begging him._

_  
He sighed dramatically. As if he could resist her smile, or her laugh, or the promise that they were going to have a wild night tonight._

_  
"Fine." He said a false reluctance._

_  
He placed it around her neck, and she turned and looked at herself in the small mirror he had in his room._

_  
The metal touched her throat, and she had to admit, she wasn't so sure now that it was a style statement she wanted to make._

_  
"Hmm, I like it."He said after a moment of silence._

_  
"Really? After all the effort it's taken for you to let me try it on once, you decide you like it on me?"_

_  
He grinned. "Marks you as mine."_

_  
She turned and swiftly kicked him in the leg. "Bâtard."_

_  
"Ah, come on, you know you love me." He replied, leaning in for a kiss, which she granted him._

  
The Iron Cross.

  
No, not just any Iron Cross.

  
_His_ Iron Cross.

  
"Prusse..." She whispered, before leaning over and breaking down into sobs. Despite the years that had passed since the news of his death, it had always seemed a lie. Some small part of her had hoped that he was simply hiding, and Russia had faked his death. She knew that was false, but her heart had kept hoping.

  
But now she held something that he would have only let out of his sight in death.

  
She cried until she felt a wet nose press against her arm.

  
She turned and blinked, the surprise stunning her for a second.

  
A familiar face greeted her.

  
"Kuma!" She shouted through the tears, wrapping her arms around him tightly in an embrace.

  
"Who?" He said, confused and almost frightened.

  
"Canada." She replied, pressing her face into his fur.

  
The bear made a content noise, and though she still felt immense sorrow, at least it had been offset by Kuma's return.

  
The next morning, when she dressed in civilian clothes, she clasped the ribbon around her neck. It still bore the same comfortable weight, the same feeling. The Iron Cross lay at the base of her throat, a dead nation's symbol, but it made her feel like he was right next to her.

  
_You're missed, mon amour._ She thought as she stepped outside to face a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Russian  
> мой ангел - my angel  
> Нет, ангел. - No, angel
> 
> French  
> bâtard - bastard  
> merde - shit  
> Aller te faire foutre, Russie. - Go fuck yourself, Russia  
> Prusse - Prussia  
> mon amour - my love
> 
> MY APOLOGIES IF THESE TRANSLATIONS WERE MISSING. FOR SOME REASON, MY BROWSER HAS MOVED THESE TRANSLATIONS INTO CHAPTER THREE WHICH IS WEIRD AND MAKES NO SENSE, AND WHEN I WENT TO EDIT THE CHAPTER, IT CLAIMED I HAD NO NOTES AT ALL.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as much as I love RusCan, this story is a pretty dark fic, and during this chapter we have a very non-con situation. I do not go into details, but you have been warned. 
> 
> PS If you like happier RusCan, please read some of my other fics. I promise I am not always doom and gloom.

The days passed into weeks, the weeks into months, and slowly, things settled down as much as they could when these sorts of events were occurring.

  
Russia and his old allies ruled the globe. Russia was not communist, though Cuba still was… Well, as much as he could be with an empire now. Vietnam ruled Southeast Asia, China the north, and a fair amount of Africa.

  
The atmosphere was still one of unrest. People were afraid. Would churches burn? Ethnic cleansing begin? They sat in fear, and she could not blame them, for she too sat in her home at night, brooding over her safety with a kitchen knife always nearby in case of danger.

  
After all, she was the symbol of a dead nation, and her heart belonged to one who had long ago died.

  
It would be easy to destroy her now.

***

She had begged him to stay when the fighting had first broke out. Begged him to stay and protect her. But they had both know she could defend herself, and he could not abandon his people or his brother.

  
He had promised to return. They had parted, praying to see each other once more.

  
Only days later, the photos had arrived. Alfred wouldn't even let her look at them.

  
"Just remember him the way you want to, sister. Remember him as he was alive." Her brother stated, throwing the images into the fireplace and making sure they burned completely.

  
So she clung to those memories of her love, years and years worth of memories.

  
Nations will always remember the ones they love.

***

One day as she returned home, Kuma began to growl. She felt her body tense up as she scanned for any item she could use as a weapon. "What is it, Kuma?"

  
He said nothing, but his fur bristled and she reached for a heavy vase nearby, ready to throw it at whoever had _invited_ themselves into her home.

  
"Canada?"

  
The voice was female and Kuma instantly relaxed at the sound. Madeline felt tears spring to her eyes as the woman in a green military uniform and the familiar voice appeared. "Hungary." She cried before running forward.

  
They embraced each other, and then began to speak.

  
"How did you get here?" She asked in shock. She hadn't seen another nation in months!

  
"Russia allowed me to come." She said, scratching Kumajirou behind the ears. "He has business in the south, and plans to come north soon."

  
Canada stiffened at that news, and Hungary nodded in sympathy. "Yes, I know. But he owns our lands now, and there is little we can do."

  
She sighed, and then spoke another question. "Who is left in Europe? I have had no news for so long."

  
Hungary lifted her hand to count. "Well, the Baltics and his sisters, of course. He never would have been able to kill them. Poland is still alive, as well as North Italy. Sweden and Finland, Switzerland and Liechtenstein. And me."

  
Canada had to hold back the tears. "South Italy? She finally asked. The stubborn half of Italy had long held some affection in her heart after the invasion of Italy in the second world war. He had worked with her and the other allies as a leader of the Italian Resistance, and begged them to have mercy on his brother. They had done what they could for both of them.

  
Hungary shook her head, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "North Italy protected him before. He tried to return the favor."

  
Canada wiped at the tears in her eyes. "Rome would've been proud." She managed to say. Romano had always said that Venciano was the favorite, but she had always told him Rome would've been proud of them both. He had never believed her.

  
Hungary nodded. She was so much older than Canada, and she had seen a lot more death in her time. But even she had been surprised by the destruction wreaked on her continent by the frozen nation to the east.

  
After they each had a cup of coffee, Hungary spoke again, but very softly, as if afraid another would hear her.

  
"There is a rumor that a new German nation has been born. Liechtenstein told me that they've seen a child nation near their homes, but they run away every time they try to get close."

  
Canada carefully listened to this and then spoke just as softly. "Does Russia know of this child?"

  
"No, at least, not yet. Liechtenstein still has her old loyalties, and she hates the occupation as much as the rest of us. I trust her when she says these things."

  
Canada sat in thought for a few moments, and then spoke. "I need to find this child."

  
Hungary looked at her. "Why you?"

  
She looked at Hungary evenly. "Russia doesn't trust you. He hasn't since Germany forced you to go back on your agreement in the second world war. If Liechtenstein and Switzerland raise the child, he will find her quickly, and she will either be destroyed or captured, and they will be punished."

  
"And you won't be?"

  
Canada looked at her and shook her head. "I would be punished, but my lands are harder to access, and the child would be nearly impossible to find once hidden." She adjusted the ribbon at her neck. "Besides, I owe it to him."

  
Hungary looked at the Iron Cross around Canada's neck and nodded. "I'll try to help you, but he will find out and take the child soon enough. If you fly into Europe, he will be watching everything you do."

  
Canada gulped at the thought that had just crossed her mind. "Not unless I have something to offer to him in return for a week without supervision." She finally said, glancing at her coffee mug in solemn contemplation.

  
Hungary saw the grim determination that passed over Canada's face and blinked in horror as she realized what this young nation meant. "Canada!" She shouted in shock.

  
"This is my choice, Hungary, and I will make it." Canada said with a whisper.

  
Nations had always used their bodies as bargaining chips and Hungary could not convince Canada to do otherwise. The only thing she could do in the end was promise to keep Kuma away from the house for an evening, in order to protect both of them.

  
They parted, both of them feeling older than they had before.

***

Russia came north and arrived to find Canada waiting for him at the airport. He was startled by her presence. He had let Hungary come north so he wouldn't have to listen to her complaints, but he had not expected Canada to greet him, especially alone.

  
"Hungary is sightseeing some of my lands. She took Kuma with her." Canada said after he had come up to her with a curious gaze.

  
Russia nodded, not quite sure what to think yet, but clearly the Nation in front of him needed to speak to him alone.

  
They drove to Canada's house and he smelled a familiar scent. He knew that Ukraine and Canada had been friends before the wars began, yet he hadn't expected to smell borscht in the Canadian's apartment.

  
"If I had to guess, I'd say you want something from me." He said, watching her pull out a loaf of fresh black bread and a slow cooking roast. She had clearly tried to make something that would appeal to him.

  
"Why would you think that?" She said, but her voice confirmed his beliefs and they both knew it. He was used to negotiations like this. It was how some of the European nations had surrendered, and from Canada it was rather cute. Italy had tried to be civil and polite, but his foolish brother had decided to try and poison him. He had sent North Italy away before dealing with his brother. He didn't want to harm the nation by forcing him to watch an execution.

  
He sat and allowed her to serve him. He knew she wouldn't try to do anything to him. Neither she nor her brother had ever been a particular fan of doing in their enemies themselves. That was why Alfred had created the CIA, after all. He wondered if it was a British trait, since Arthur had always had the same avoidance of getting his hands dirty.

  
Once the meal had been devoured and she had poured him a second glass of vodka, she spoke.

  
"I need a week in Europe without supervision."

  
He raised an eyebrow at that. She would have to have a rather stunning payment if she expected him to allow her that.

  
"I will wear a tracking bracelet, but no audio or visual surveillance. I have to do something there that is very personal, and I'd rather not have to deal with a detail of people following me."

  
"And what might you be doing?"

  
"I would fly in my private jet to Hungary's house. I wish to pay my final respects to Prussia, and she informed me she knows where his grave is."

  
He watched her and found himself unable to detect another motive in her eyes. "After that, I thought I might visit North Italy, though that might not happen." She continued, sipping on a glass of wine in a way that reminded him of France. France had a way of being able to hide his emotions when he needed to as well.

  
He paused. He could arrange for men to tail her from Hungary's house, or greet her at North Italy's house, but he looked at her and decided that was simply not worth the effort. Besides, depending on her method of payment, she might revoke what she gave him.

  
"You will wear a tracker bracelet at all times. If you wish to change your travel plans, that is your decision. But at the end of the week, if you are still in Europe, I will send someone to find you.” He said quite calmly.

  
She looked surprised at his decision, but that look was quickly hidden. He stood.

  
"I assume, however, that you guessed this bargain would cost you."

  
She nodded, and looked up at him, setting down her glass of wine. "Whatever you wish in payment, I accept."

  
Those words made it obvious what she planned to give him in payment, and he accepted the bargain at once. Intimacy was hard for him to achieve, so even a false show of it would satisfy him.

  
He nodded, downing his vodka in a gulp, and then took her hand, leading her to her own bed. She followed, not fighting. She needed to endure this.

  
_Think of the child, Madeline. You must do this for them._

***

The next morning Canada limped to her bathroom. He was already gone, thank god, and she was glad. She washed her whole body, wishing the filth under her skin would come off with the hot water.

  
She would leave in three days.

  
A noise at the door warned her that Hungary had returned with Kumajirou.

  
She heard his paws on the steps and then his head slamming into the door. She had left it open a crack and he dashed to her side, licking her face from the side of the bathtub, his rough tongue bringing her some comfort. "Very bad. Very bad." He said as he licked her, finally tucking his head under her chin when she leaned over the edge of the tub for him. She wasn't sure if he was speaking about what had happened last night, or that she had let it happen, but she was sure that he knew.

  
Hungary was close behind the bear, and she looked at Canada with concern. "Are you... did you...?"

  
"I'm fine." She stated, wrapping herself up in the towel as she stood. "And I have permission."

  
Hungary nodded, and then turned away. "I'll... I'll go make breakfast."

  
"Thank you." Canada said, neither of them able to met the other’s eyes in that moment.

***

Three days later, she was flying low over the lands that had once been Germany. Hungary looked at her as she prepared to leap. Kumajirou had his own chute, which she would release before her own. He had refused to be left behind, especially after what had happened the last time he left her alone.

  
Her backpack was on and Hungary spoke quietly. "I wish you to best of luck. My jet will be waiting for you in Switzerland if you are successful."

  
Canada nodded. "Thank you, Hungary. I suggest you return to the cabin."

  
She nodded, and went back to the pilots. Around her ankle, Canada saw the light glow of the tracker bracelet. Hungary had a woman waiting for her on the ground who had an eerie resemblance to Madeline.

  
"Ready, Kumayoshi?"She asked as they neared the drop zone.

  
"Who?" He asked as she picked him up, and she clung tight to him.

  
"Canada." She whispered back, grabbing the metal nearby for support.

  
He nodded, and she clutched him to her chest. The second they had passed the aircraft, she would release his chute.

  
"Ready to drop?" The pilot called.

  
"Almost." She said, and then hooked her line to the cable and clutched Kuma to her chest. They had done this before during the wars. "In position."

  
The door opened and a blast of cold air hit them.

  
"Five, four, three, two, one..."

  
The green light blazed and Canada leaped.

***

They were falling. After about five seconds, she pulled Kuma's chute and let go.

  
Her polar bear calmly watched his chute fill as she rocketed past him, putting some distance between them before she pulled her own chute open, otherwise there would have been a polar bear crash.

  
She landed in a tree a short while later, and had to cut her lines, pulling the remains of the chute to her. No need to advertise where she'd been to Russia.

  
She heard a roar in the distance, and running, found Kuma in a tree as well, but he was tangled in his lines, obviously upset.

  
"Hey, it's okay. I'm here." She reassured him as she pulled out a knife and began to cut at the rope.

  
He went silent and allowed her to free him and lower him from the tree. Once she had removed what was left of his chute, they were alone in the forest.

  
"Okay, Kumajirou, best behavior when we come across citizens, but if you see a soldier, run as fast as you can and I'll meet up you as soon as I can."

  
He nodded and they began their walk deep into Germany.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my browser is showing both the translations from this chapter and chapter one in the bottom of the page. If you see this on your browser, could you comment below? I'm unsure if my browser is glitching or if I'm having trouble with Archive.

On the third day, they had just passed through another small town which was blissfully free of soldiers when suddenly Kumajirou turned away from the path.

  
"Kuma?" She asked.

  
"Prussia." He said in return, and then bounded off.

  
She dashed after him and eventually they entered a clearing.

  
He was standing near a small pile of stones and sniffed it. Canada entered the clearing and instantly felt like she had just walked into Prussia's embrace. Hungary had shown her pictures of where Prussia was buried, and this site wasn't it. Yet, Canada knew this was where his body lay. Russia had lied.

  
"Oh, Prusse." She said, laying her face against the rocks as she drew near, almost collapsing on the pile. "He didn't want me to find you, yet here I am."

  
Silence greeted her, but she knew his spirit was near. That feeling was unmistakable.

  
"Prusse, I'm searching for the child that Hungary told me about. I want to take her home to Canada and keep her safe, but I'm afraid I won't find her. Help me if you can." She whispered.

  
A wind blew through the clearing and she stood up. It was only mid-afternoon, but she knew his answer.

  
"We will stay here tonight, Kuma." She stated, pulling out their supplies.

  
The bear nodded, curling up next to the unnamed marker as she set up her tent at the edge of the clearing, keeping the Iron Cross tucked under her shirt.

  
As night fell, so she fell into a deep sleep, one of the most peaceful and dreamless sleeps she had had since the wars began.

***

Morning came and she heard a noise in her campsite. Kuma was still sleeping when she sat up and carefully opened the tent flap.

  
A small child was near the pile of rocks, eating a handful of fruit from a nearby blackberry cane. On the cane sat a little yellow bird, looking around every now and then and giving a reassuring chirp if everything was alright.

  
Canada moved out of the tent and the bird gave a cry of alarm. The child began to dash away.

  
"Wait!" She cried out in the universal language of the nations.

  
The child froze.

  
"I mean no harm. I'm here to help." She called out to the child.

  
At that moment, Kuma chose to emerge, and the bird suddenly calmed down. The child turned around.

  
It was a girl, with big white curls and albino skin. She had blue eyes, however, and watched Canada with fear.

  
Canada pulled out the Iron Cross from her shirt and showed it to the child. "I'm a friend."

  
The girl paused for a moment, and then walked back over, her bird coming with her. Canada smiled.

  
The girl came close and then spoke in German. "He said to find you and go with you."

  
She nodded. There was no doubt in her mind who _he_ was."I'm going to take you to a safe place." She said, thanking Prussia for bringing the child to her.

  
The child looked at her, examining her, and then Canada swooped her up into a hug, startling her, but it wasn't unpleasant. The bird perched on Kumajirou's head.

  
"What is your name?"

  
She shook her head. "No name yet. Human or Nation."

  
Canada looked at the child and then spoke. "May I give you your human name?"

  
The girl nodded in what seemed like anticipation.

  
"Maria. Maria Gilbert Beilschmidt."

***

Madeline and Maria hiked to the border between the former lands of Germany and Liechtenstein.

  
Within an hour, a small female figure approached them. Maria tugged on Madeline's sleeve. "We need to get away from her." She whispered, her voice strained with fear. “She and the man chase me sometimes.”

  
"She's here to help, Maria." Madeline stated. "She's an old friend."

  
The little girl didn't seem to believe her, but stayed next to her.

  
Liechtenstein came up to them and nodded. "I've called Vash. The plane is still there, and safe."

  
"Good. Thank you, Eva." Madeline said, relief filling her when she heard those words.

  
Eva looked at Maria, who hid behind Madeline. "Hello, little one." She said quietly, kneeling down and giving her a small wave.

  
Maria looked back and forth between them. Madeline picked her up. "It's okay, Maria."

  
She didn't say anything for a moment, and then she looked at the bow in Eva's hair. "That's pretty." She finally whispered.

  
Eva smiled and pulled out another purple ribbon, putting it in Maria's hair. "Now you have one of your own."

  
After that, Maria decided she liked this other nation, and happily got into the car with her and Madeline. After a few minutes of driving, the young woman spoke.

  
"Canada, you're going to have to keep her separate from your place. If Russia found any evidence of her existence…”

  
"I'm aware. I have a safe spot for her once I get home, and she'll never be alone."

  
Liechtenstein turned around to see the small girl and her bird had fallen asleep in the back seat. "She looks a lot like Prussia."

  
"Her attitude the past few days however, is more like Germany. And she has those blue eyes as well."

  
Eva nodded. "If anything happens to her..."

  
"I won't take any other nations with me. I will say I found her while I visited Prussia's grave and decided to raise her on my own. I won't let anyone else be punished."

  
Liechtenstein sighed. "I'd help, and Vash would as well if we could, but..."

  
Canada nodded. "His grip is too firm here in Europe. I will make sure she is safe."

  
They both glanced back at the child, and then Liechtenstein spoke again.

  
"I hope she's half as brave as her mother. If she is, I know she won't lose against him, should it come to another war."

  
It took Canada a moment to realize that she was Maria's mother.

***

Vash had switched cars with his sister at the border, and said nothing to Canada as they drove. He was a speed demon, and soon she realized why.

  
After they had driven a few miles, they had begun to be tailed.

  
He swung around a corner and swore. "Hold on tight!"

  
Maria, silent, clutched to Madeline as she held Gilbird in her hands. Kumajirou was laying on the floor to avoid being thrown around too much himself, and Madeline hoped this experience would end quickly.

  
"They realized Hungary's been wearing the bracelet and disguising a woman as you about an hour ago. You're going to have a lot to answer for when you get back!" He shouted, swinging around yet another corner.

  
"I know, I know! I have a plan, alright?" She snapped as she felt the small nation’s hands tighten their grip in her shirt, and Kuma gritted his teeth to keep from roaring out his displeasure.

  
He didn't question her, swinging through traffic. "If we can get you on that jet, she might be safe, but I hope you're prepared for the hell you're going to go through once you land!"

  
Maria clung to Madeline, looking scared as Vash made his statements. "Shush, it's gonna be okay." She said, trying to reassure the girl.

  
"GODDAMNIT!" Vash screamed, practically throwing his car into another lane. "Good thing I do this every time they tail me! Otherwise it might look suspicious.” He responded as he sped up, putting ever greater distance between them and the vehicles behind them.

  
"Ever escaped?" Madeline heard herself shout as she held onto Maria.

  
"Every time." He replied, and then turned onto a back road, speeding up as he did so. They turned into a wooded lane and suddenly he killed the engine.

  
The cars shot past them on the main road, and he nodded after they had all went past. "Out of the car now. There's an airfield ahead, and the pilot's waiting for you. He'll get you to your plane."

  
"Thanks Vash!" Madeline stated, grabbing her one bag, and Kumajirou hurried after them. Behind them, she heard him gun the engine, returning to the road as a decoy. Soon enough, the cars came rushing back past, and she and Maria hurried down the lane as fast as they could.

  
She spotted the plane soon enough and leapt aboard. The pilot nodded, and as soon as they were all fastened in, he guided the plane to the tiny runway, and they departed.

***

They landed in Zurich swiftly, and he taxied right over to her private plane, with the ladder all ready. She high tailed it onto the plane, and once the small plane was out of the way, they were cleared to be the next plane to take off. She swiftly secured everything, and then sank into the chair, trying to calm herself.

  
_Priority flight. I feel like I'm back on Air Force One with Alfred._ She thought, joking with herself.

  
Once they were in the air, she began to relax. They were flying, her child was safe and sound, and they had a head start on anyone following them thanks to Vash and Elizaveta.

  
That relaxation was a mistake.

  
"Ma'am," The pilot spoke over the intercom. "We're being hailed to land in Heathrow."

  
"Ignore it." She said, feeling her body begin to shake as she realized what that might mean. “If the issue is weather, we’ll chart a course around it.” She responded, glancing over at Maria, who had been busy petting Gilbird.

  
"Ma'am, I can't. It's not a weather issue.” The pilot responded, unease creeping into his voice.

  
"Who is commanding you to land?" She asked, her trepidation growing as the conversation continued.

  
"Ivan Braginsky, from Russian Command."

  
Madeline looked back at Maria, who was terrified. She might not know the name, but she knew something bad was going on.

  
"Stay here. I'm going to make it alright." Madeline tried to assure the child before heading to the cockpit.

  
She went forward and grabbed the hailing device. "This is Madeline Williams, ambassador for the former nation of Canada. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" She said, acting as coy and innocent as she could.

  
Ivan's voice was tight, yet strangely cordial as he replied. "This is Ivan Braginsky from Russian Command. We are demanding you land in Heathrow Airport to be taken into custody and questioning. Immediately."

  
Madeline paused for a moment and then spoke to her pilot off the speaker. "Can I get a private line to Cuba? I know the number."

  
He nodded.

  
"Standby, Russian Command, we have a Cuban national on board and I must confirm this change in flight with him."

  
She ended the conversation before he could say anything else, grabbing the phone the pilot had gestured to and calling an old _friend_. One who owed her a favor.

  
"Buenas díaz, esto es Carlos Machado." Came a masculine voice when the phone was finally answered.

  
"Hello, Cuba."

  
The voice on the other end of the line sputtered. "Canada?!"

  
"Yes. I'm in a tight spot and I need your help. It has to do with Russia."

  
She heard scribbling, and then a statement. "It's going to cost you more than what i owe you for that favor. What do you need?"

  
"I need you to override a command to land in Heathrow. Claim we are carrying Cuban nationals and divert us to Havana. You're still a nation and you can override him. I can't."

  
She heard more scribbling, and then a statement. "Tell the pilot to standby until I give you the all clear."

  
She turned to the pilot. "Standby, and that's an order from the Cuban Command. Wait for radio contact."

  
After a few minutes the radio crackled back to life.

  
"You have been cleared and diverted to Havana, Cuba." This voice belonged to an air traffic controller rather than Ivan. "Please adjust your course and continue flying."

  
Madeline sighed in relief and the pilot and his co-pilot's entire bodies relaxed as well. She returned to the back of the plane and collapsed into the seat next to Maria, who was still scared.

  
"It's okay. I got us to a safe spot."

  
Maria nodded, and then curled up next to Madeline as she laid down on the couch. "Thank you, _mutti_."

  
Madeline felt a surge of pride run through her body. Gilbird landed on Kumajirou's head, and nestled into his fur. She pulled Maria close and sighed with relief.

  
Soon all four passengers were asleep.

***

When they landed in Havana, she was greeted by Carlos entering the plane, a foul look on his face. Madeline had just tucked Maria and Gilbird under a blanket while they taxied over to their landing strip, and turned to face him.

  
He was angry, and rightfully so. "My President would like to know why we just caused an international incident for the ambassador of a former nation who was _not_ carrying Cuban nationals onboard."

  
Madeline looked at him and spoke, fear growing in her face. "Carlos, I need you to keep a secret."

  
"Why should I do that, Madeline? It's taking all the power I have to keep my police from storming this plane and arresting you." He snarled, but she knew he would.

  
Madeline lifted up the blanket on the sleeping young girl and Carlos stared in shock. "I just rescued her from Europe. If he finds out I have her, she's dead and I'm dead. She's a new German nation, and she's innocent of anything, but his government is afraid. Only Liechtenstein, Switzerland, and Hungary are left, Hungary because she is indispensable, and Liechtenstein because it was the only way to ensure Switzerland would not fight back."

  
Cuba stood there for a long while, glancing back and forth between her and the sleeping child. "Carlos, please..." She begged him.

  
"House arrest at a house in Havana for a least a month, maybe two." He said, keeping his arms crossed.

  
"Maria?"

  
"Is that her name?" Madeline nodded. "I'll escort her off the plane in my private car. I'll bring her to you later, once I make sure to get anyone in Russia's employ out of the place."

  
She nodded, and then shook the child awake. Maria yawned and opened her eyes.

  
"Maria, this is Carlos. He's another friend of mine. I need you and Gilbird to go with him for now. I'll see you again later."

  
Maria rubbed her eyes and spoke. "Gilbird?"

  
Madeline blushed, realizing she hadn't asked the child if the bird had a name, and had just been using the name of Prussia's bird. "It's what your _vati_ called his bird, and they looked just like this one."

  
"Oh."Maria said, and then looked at her little bird. "She likes it."

  
_She. I should have guessed it was a girl. Oh well._

  
Cuba picked up the child and Canada tucked the blanket around her in a tight cocoon of warmth. "Please keep her safe."

  
"I promise." He said, moving towards the exit of the plane. “The police will arrive in a few minutes. I was never here.”

  
Madeline nodded, sat down and took a deep breath. "We have to go with the police when they arrive, Kumaji." She said once Carlos and Maria were gone from her sight.

  
"Who?"

  
"Canada."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> French  
> Prusse-Prussia
> 
> Spanish  
> Buenas díaz, esto es Carlos Machado.-Good morning, this is Carlos Machado.
> 
> German  
> Mutti-mom  
> Vati-dad


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my browser seems to be placing translations with the wrong chapters and erasing my notes entirely. If you see missing translations, please comment about it below.

The house in Havana was actually rather spacious and luxurious. Cuba had arrived this morning (alone, of course, for the time being) to say that she would not be released until the Cuban government had conducted a _satisfactory_ investigation.

  
The note he handed her under the table, however, read that he was stalling for her until Russia had calmed down. From what else it said, Hungary was currently in the hospital from major wounds and signs of possible torture.

  
She nodded and allowed herself to be contained, not even pressing the boundaries of the house for the first few days, content to simply stay on the sundeck with the blinds on the roof pulled down.

***

After about a week of solitude, Cuba was back, and he was uneasy.

  
She didn't say anything about it at first, offering him something to drink and then dishing up some ice cream. (Apparently Nations, even former ones, got quite the luxurious house arrest in Havana).

  
Finally, he spoke his mind. "Russia is pressuring my government to release you into his custody, and we are holding firm for now on the need for an investigation, but I am afraid our stance will not be able to remain this way forever."

  
She looked around, her worry obvious, and he spoke. "We only have loyal Cubans in this building now. Although one is actually American."

  
Madeline raised an eyebrow at that.

  
"Half Cuban husband. They applied for Cuban citizenship once the wars had stopped. She is very loyal."

  
"More afraid of Russia than you?"

  
"That's part of it. The other half is that she worked for your brother, and knew about the Nations. I met her once, and we actually got along quite well."

  
Madeline had to laugh a little at that. But the conversation grew serious again.

  
"Madeline, if you are turned over, what should be done about Maria?" Carlos asked.

  
She paused, and then spoke. "Mexico is still alive, is she not?"

  
Cuba nodded.

  
"Would she be willing to raise her?"

  
He looked at her in surprise. "Madeline, what are you implying?" He asked, a note of concern rising in his voice.

  
"I doubt I will be allowed to live. If I am killed, I want you and Mexico to raise her until she is old enough to return to Europe on her own."

  
He stared at her, realizing she was serious. "Canada..."

  
"She has to be saved." She snapped, and Cuba looked at her. "I want her to live, even if I don't."

  
Finally Cuba nodded. "I'll protect her then."

  
"Thank you, Cuba."

  
He stood, and then stopped. "I will not bring her here, in case my government allows his to intervene. Is there anything you would like me to give her?"

  
Canada paused, and then nodded. "Allow me some time to write a letter, please, before you leave. Keep it for her until I know whether or not I will survive."

  
"I will do that."

***

After a month of house arrest, Canada was beginning to feel nauseous.

  
Constantly.

  
Every morning she woke up miserable, barely able to keep her food down, and in the evening she devoured everything she could see. She felt dehydrated and gulped down as much water and lemonade as she could.

  
Cuba, during his visits every three or four days, noticed these changes and finally sent a doctor to see her. She tried to convince him against it, but he did remind her that she was technically in his custody, and that was the end of that conversation.

  
After a few days of just observing her, as the doctor only spoke Spanish, and Madeline didn't speak any (for the moment at least), he handed her a test.

  
A pregnancy test.

  
Madeline used it and stared at the symbol once it had registered her results.

  
She wanted to scream.

  
In fact, she did.

***

Cuba was going to release Canada to him.

  
Russia was furious as they flew to the island nation, and Lithuania knew it. She had bargained, tricked him, and then taken sanctuary in Havana. Russia was calmer than he had been a month ago, but he was still ready to snap and destroy the girl.

  
When they landed, Cuba greeted them with civil terms and climbed into the car with them. Lithuania kept silent in the driver’s seat as the two nations began to speak in rapid Spanish. Their argument was heated, and then suddenly Russia went quiet after a loud exclamation from Cuba.

  
Lithuania turned at the silence and saw that the color had drained out of Russia's face. Cuba looked at Russia with a glare of accusation, and Lithuania quickly dropped his head again, but now he was listening, and they slipped back into Russian.

  
"She's what?" Russia finally said after several moments, shock in his voice.

  
"Pregnant, and with your child." Cuba stated, sounding irritated. "Six weeks along."

  
Another long silence, and then Russia spoke. "And how do I know this isn't a lie?" He said with an accusation in his voice.

Lithuania was glad that Cuba, despite his pride, was used to receiving this attitude from Russia. Otherwise, that accusation could have led to many problems if Cuba took it as an insult.

  
"I have ultrasound photos, store-bought pregnancy tests showing positive results, and blood tests for a Madeline Williams AKA the former nation of Canada which all state the same simple fact. She is pregnant. Deny science if you want, but I have the proof.”

  
Russia said nothing for quite a while, and then he finally spoke again. "I would like to see this with my own eyes." He said, as Lithuania made a turn towards the address the Cuban nation had given him.

  
"The doctor is there with her." Cuba responded, his tone calm once more.

  
"Good." Russia said, and then they said nothing else.

***

Canada laid down on the exam table, aware of the Russian's eyes on her. She wanted to ask Cuba to get him away from her, but she held it in. _You must do this for Maria. For Maria and your unborn child._

  
The doctor did the exam and once he was done, she was allowed to retire to the bathroom in order to get dressed again. She felt like tearing off layers of skin over her stomach as the Russian had stared at her.

  
When she returned to the room, completely dressed, Russia looked at her with that uncomfortable violet and spoke in French.

  
"You will come back to Europe with me and stay there until the child is born, at least."

  
She said nothing, recognizing an order when she heard one, and Cuba nodded, though he looked like he wanted to argue.

  
She was released into Russia's custody. He put a hand on her shoulder and she held back an involuntary shake at the touch. Cuba looked at her with sympathy as she was guided away.

  
_Keep my daughter safe. Keep Maria safe._ She prayed as they drove back to the airport, and she was put on the plane back to Russia. She wondered if she would live after the birth of her second child.

***

Once Canada and Russia had disappeared into the distance, Cuba drove back to his house. The emptiness of the house where Madeline had only been moments before was too much to bear.

  
Maria sat outside on the porch swing, looking at him as he approached the front door. Her face was too serious for a girl her age. He sighed, knowing he had to tell her.

  
“Your mutti had to go away.” He finally said.

  
The girl stood up, holding her bird close. “Will she be back soon?”

  
Cuba wished he could lie to this child as he had been doing for the past month, but she deserved to know. “No, she won’t be back soon.”

  
Maria said nothing, simply looking at her feet and sighing.

  
“Maria, your mother wanted me to let a friend raise you until she can get back.” Maria nodded, looking back up at him. “Her name is Esperanza Hernandez Carriedo Martinez.” Cuba continued. “I’ll be taking you there tomorrow.”

  
She nodded again and then headed inside towards the guest room where she had been sleeping during her stay. That evening, he found her packing when he came to tell her dinner was ready.

  
She looked older than she had when Canada arrived. About the age of four, rather than two, but she already acted much older. Such was the fate of nations. Mental age and physical age were determined by arbitrary things that not even China had been ever to explain.

  
She turned and saw him holding an envelope. She came over and spoke. “If that is for me, may I have it?” He nodded, handing it to her and she opened it up.

  
Inside was the Iron Cross.

  
She put it on and tucked the letter into her bag, prepared to meet this new stage in her life wearing Prussia’s Iron Cross.

Cuba sighed.

  
_This young and now she’s motherless._

***

When they landed in Moscow, Canada followed the two men, and said nothing when Lithuania asked her if she was feeling alright.

  
This would be her defense from now on. To say nothing was better than to say anything.

  
Lithuania climbed into the driver’s seat, and Russia climbed into the back, motioning for her to join him. She did it knowing she had no choice, and realized there was a dividing wall between the driver’s seat and the back.

  
Russia looked at her and spoke softly. “You are lucky I am a forgiving person, Madeline. Many would not be so kind after what you did.”

  
She let her eyes stare at the floor, not speaking.

  
“You will have to be punished eventually, but it will not be harsh. After all, this child is a sign that this new nation will survive.” He said, leaning in close to her. “Our child will be strong, and I know their nation will endure.”

  
He set a hand on hers and she flinched. He sighed at her physical reaction. “Do not fret. We will grow closer, little Kanata. This child ensures it.”

  
_My child, not yours. I will let you have no claim on this child inside me._

  
Yet, she said nothing, simply breathing as she stared at the floor.

  
He set a hand on her back, the way a husband would comfort a wife.

  
She wanted to cry, but she held back the wave of tears that tried to rush forward.

***

Maria looked at the woman in front of her, who examined her with a sharp and curious eye. Cuba had fallen silent.

  
“So, your madre named you Maria?” The woman finally asked.

  
“It was vati's middle name.” She replied, unsure how she knew that fact. Prussia had always been secretive about his real middle name. Only a few people knew it.

  
Mexico watched Cuba for a moment, and then switched to Spanish. _“If she’s the daughter of Canada and Prussia, why is she here with you?”_

  
_“Russia took Canada away. She asked me to bring her to you.”_ He replied swiftly, trying not to met her gaze

  
Mexico looked at him suspiciously. _“You still have feelings for her, don’t you?”_

  
Cuba said nothing, and Mexico nodded. The silence was an answer enough. _“I thought so. I’ll take her, but I need you to shut down a cartel for me. They’ve got people getting into rather high places in the puppet government you left me with, and it’s quite annoying.”_

  
Cuba nodded, and the young girl looked at Esperanza with curious eyes herself. “Will you teach me that pretty language?”

  
Esperanza smiled, a different expression coming to her face as she gazed at the child. “ _Si_. That’s yes.”

  
Maria smiled herself, a small giggle coming to her lips. “Si!”

***

Months passed, and Canada found her imprisonment in Russia’s home boring and menial.

  
She had always tried to keep herself busy with _real_ work. Paperwork, while it had to be done, was not something which appealed to her for months on end. Neither were handcrafts. Cooking had it’s place, but not as her only activity, and Russia had even taken that away. Despite no medical reason to do such, Russia had basically forced her into bedrest.

  
She watched trees drop their leaves from her window and missed the maples at home. She would go to try and cook dinner and be sent back to her room. She would sweep the floor, and if anyone spotted her, they made her cease. Lithuania gave her a sympathetic look while he did it at least.

  
It drove her mad. She couldn't even do housework now!

  
Ukraine tried to be cheerful, but it was hard when Canada refused to respond. Belarus looked ready to murder Canada, and she was so bored she might have appreciated the attempted murder from Belarus if only to show that she wasn’t completely helpless.

  
One day, as Ukraine sat next to Canada, she spoke of Russia.

  
“He had a human wife once, during the earliest days of Russia. She was active right up until the moment she went into labor. It was more dangerous back then, and he lost them both. He blamed himself. That’s why he’s trying to keep you in bed.”

  
“Bed rest won’t save me from boredom.”

  
Ukraine was startled by Madeline’s voice. She had not spoken at all the past few months except for occasional whispers in her sleep. It was surprising to hear her voice.

  
Then Canada looked at Ukraine. “Do you have any knitting needles? Or scraps of fabric? Handcrafts aren’t my favorite, but it’s better than nothing.”

  
Ukraine smiled brightly. “I’ll be right back.”

***

As the weeks passed, Canada soon began to worry often about what would happen to her once her child was born, and one night she just couldn’t hold the questions inside any longer.

  
She walked down the hall to Russia’s study, and ignored Latvia’s request for her to return to her room and rest. Knocking on the door, she waited, hearing Latvia grow more panicked behind her by the second.

  
Finally the door opened and Russia stared at her in surprise. She nodded and spoke. “May I speak with you?” It was the first time she had spoken to him since forcing him to allow her to divert to Havana.

  
He let her in without saying a word, and gestured to the couch. She sat and watched him as he returned to his own chair. He sent Latvia away with a swift motion, and Latvia was smart enough to shut the door behind him.

  
They sat in silence for several minutes until she finally spoke. “What will happen to me after the child is born?”

  
Russia paused, surprised by the question, but then he nodded and spoke. “You will stay here at least another six months, and then we will go to your home for a visit. Whether you stay there or return to raise this child with me, it is your choice.”

  
Canada had to pause for a moment before speaking. “I won’t be allowed to keep the child with me?” She said, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.

  
Russia looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Nyet. You have proven that you are willing to disobey commands. If you wish to raise this child, you will have to stay at my side to do so. That is your punishment for your insubordination.”

  
Canada said nothing while she processed this information, all while Russia’s eyes watched her body language. She was glad that traces of her invisibility remained. It made her hard to read, even to people who knew her very well, so she knew he was unable to see what she was thinking.

  
She finally nodded. “Thank you, Russia.” She said, standing. “I will consider my options.” She turned towards the door to flee.

  
“мой ангел?” He said, almost at a whisper.

  
Canada turned. Russia came up to her and took her hands, and then, cradling her face with one of his, kissed her.

  
“If you stay, you will not regret it.” He whispered when he pulled away.

  
She left his study, and the moment the door had shut behind her, she ran back to her room to scream into the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> German  
> Mutti-mom  
> Vati's-dad's
> 
> Spanish  
> Madre-mother  
> Si-yes
> 
> Russian  
> Nyet.-No  
> мой ангел?-My angel?


	5. Chapter 5

She asked for a home birth, and despite Russia’s protests and insistence that she would go to a hospital, Ukraine declared it a wonderful idea, and their combined enthusiasm won out in the end. He allowed Canada to invite one extra person to the birth, and she choose Hungary.

  
Hungary smiled at Canada when she arrived, despite Russia’s annoyance over their tricking him, and soon after that, she was sharing the bedroom with Canada, who was comforted by her presence in this room Russia had given her. Hungary bore a new scar, near her face, but neither said anything about it, and they didn’t need too.

  
One night, Canada had just stood up to go to the bathroom when Hungary grabbed her wrist and stood up herself. In the darkness, they looked at each other.

  
Hungary spoke very softly. “They’re watching me too closely during the day. Did you get the child out?”

  
Canada nodded. “A girl. I named her Maria Gilbert Beilschmidt.”

  
“Where is she now?” Hungary asked, sounding desperate. Canada knew why.

  
“With either Cuba or Mexico. Cuba has promised to keep her safe. I need to go to the bathroom now. Can we talk more in a moment?” Canada said, the pressure in her bladder feeling immense.

  
Hungary let her go, and when she returned, Hungary spoke again, although she was pretending to be asleep on her mattress.  
“I’m glad you were able to save her. Thank you.”

  
“You’re welcome.” Canada said with a soft smile on her lips as she let sleep steal her away once more.

***

Birth was painful, but Madeline reveled in every moment of the experience. It meant she was _alive_. After centuries of living and feeling the embrace of death a few times, only to wake up an hour later, she had learned to appreciate pain.

  
Hungary was helping the midwife, while Ukraine spoke comforting words to her. Canada held her tongue, only moaning when she needed to express her pain. She did not take any offered hands. As much as she loved both Hungary and Ukraine, the only face she wanted to see was one long gone from this world.

  
Soon she heard the midwife say something, and Ukraine told her "Just one more push."

  
She tightened her muscles and pushed, a slight gasp escaping her mouth at the same time a tiny cry rose into the air.

  
She watched the midwife, who handed her the bundle. A flood of emotions filled her.

  
“Hey little girl.” She whispered, staring at the child.

  
The child was indeed another girl, with her father’s silver hair, but deep dark blue eyes like hers. She was wailing, and Canada held her close.

  
Ukraine smiled and slipped out of the room. She traversed down the hallway to her brother’s study, and opened the door. He looked up at her, waiting impatiently for the announcement.

  
“It’s a girl.” Ukraine said with a smile on her face.

  
Ivan nodded. “We’ll name her Irina. Irina Sonya.”

  
Ukraine watched her brother for a moment, and then nodded, her smile falling slightly when she realized he wasn’t going to go see the child himself. “I will tell the midwife.”

  
When Ukraine returned, Madeline was stroking her child’s hair, and cooing the name she had chosen for the girl. “Hello, Isabella.”

  
“Her name is to be Irina Sonya.” Katyusha said.

  
Canada looked up. “But her name is…”

  
“Her name is what he wants it to be.” Ukraine said, sorrow filling her. Canada and Russia would never be a happy couple. Canada was only bound to her brother by this child.

  
Canada sighed and said nothing, only giving a nod as her consent. She watched Katyusha fill out the papers, but she whispered to the baby quietly.

  
"You are Isabella Joan, mon fille. I will keep it that way as long as I can.”

***

Maria learned Spanish quickly, and Esperanza had to admit, she was impressed by the speed of this child.

  
The girl was also silent and sometimes she would simply seem to disappear into thin air like her mother had. Yet, she was also confident and bold, and when she made mistakes, she would simply plow through until she found the right word. She reminded Esperanza of both her parents.

  
Esperanza had met Canada many times, and the silent nation had been friendly to her. She didn't have to worry about the large nation threatening to build a fence or stop trains for days which might be carrying drugs, yes, but also valuable exports such as perishable food, unlike a _certain brother_ of hers.

  
Meanwhile, she remembered Prussia from the Zimmerman Note. He had actually visited and tried to convince her to attack the United States. She had been polite, and he had left very confident that his little plan had worked.

  
_Imagine his surprise when we stayed neutral and offered the US supplies. Alfred was suspicious for a while, but I convinced him to trust me eventually._

  
When Cuba had first invaded, Alfred had come to her aide, though he hadn't been invited. But part of it was his own fear of Cuba reaching him. She had humored him, but the second the Russians landed on his soil and he returned to defend himself, she stopped all domestic military operations. Soon, all the soldiers had to do to surrender peacefully was shout "Ciudadano Mexicano!"

  
Now she was a puppet government, yet she still had some swing over him. He was the largest island in the Caribbean, but she was the largest nation under his control, and she had resources he did not, and with the cartels, a way to make sure he had to stop and listen to her demands. Some of them, not the ones in her government, but some of them, were at least partially loyal to the idea of Mexico rather than the holy dollar.

  
She turned at the sound of a crash in the kitchen with a start. "Maria?!" She called out in concern.

  
Maria came rushing into the living room crying, and clutched at Esperanza's skirts. "They're hurting them! They're hurting them, Esperanza!"

  
"Who's hurting them?" She asked, confused, but also realizing what this must mean.

  
"The soldiers! The women are screaming, and so are the children! Men are running away! No one's standing up for them!" She cried, hers fists becoming tighter. “Someone needs to help them!”

  
Esperanza tried to reach down and comfort the little nation when suddenly she started screaming.

  
" _Hör auf! Hör auf! Hör auf!"_

  
"Maria! Maria!"

***

Carlos watched Esperanza fret over the blankets, adjusting them and readjusting them as she felt she needed too. It was hard to watch a woman he considered his sister in such a state of worry.

  
"A satellite photo shows a town in Germany on fire. I suspect a rebellion was centered there, or a resistance cell."

  
Mexico nodded without looking at him, tucking a pillow under the child's head. Cuba sighed. "Aren't you the least interested?"  
She whirled, her face one of anger. "This could kill her! Nations beginning from oppression are very sensitive to this sort of thing, as you should know! I have no time to be interested, Carlos!"

  
He looked at her as she walked around the bed, fretting over every last thing. She was partially right. Young nations formed under oppression were often easily destroyed by larger nations. But both he and her had been born in such a state, but the injustice down in their lands had made them stronger, more unified. Of course, it had helped that Spain lived an ocean away, whereas for Maria, Russia was right next door.

  
Maria moaned under the sheets, and down from the rafters flew her bird, not such a chick anymore, but a young hawk. It's flight was unsteady, but it settled down next to her and began to preen her hair.

  
The two older nations watched, and when Carlos next looked at her, Mexico was sobbing silently.

  
"Mexico?" He asked, reaching a hand over to try and comfort her.

  
"Aztec died with Quetzalcoatl next to him, trying to care for him in his final moments. I remember it, and the way Spain grinned when he found me next to Aztec’s body. I wanted to die as well, but Aztec wouldn't let me. He said I had to be strong so I could beat the intruders and make them leave our lands."

  
Cuba looked at her with silent sympathy, and then she reached over and brushed her hand along the hawk's head. The bird looked at Mexico with brightly lit eyes before returning to preening her friend's hair.

  
"Mexico, you should go get some sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens." Carlos reasoned with her after a few minutes of silence.

  
Mexico shook her head, sitting down in a chair next to the head of the bed. "I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until she wakes up."

  
Cuba sighed, and settled into his own chair, watching Canada's daughter.

  
It was going to be a long night.

***

Russia quickly became the dictionary definition of a doting father, carrying Irina with him almost everywhere inside the house once the first forty-eight hours had passed. He even changed her diapers. Canada felt like her daughter was slipping away from her.

  
At night, when Irina was hungry, Canada nursed her, refusing to pump her breasts so that Russia could feed her using the bottle. While she nursed in the rocking chair, alone in her room, she whispered to her daughter. "Isabella. You are Isabella Joan. You are not Irina Sonya. You are Isabella Joan."

  
At night, once Russia had taken over after Irina had nursed, Madeline went to her room and picked up a picture of her and France. She had always kept one on her, even in the world wars (though she'd lost a few that way. France had always had a laugh when she pulled out a photo with a bullet hole in it, quickly making a replacement with the nearest camera and black room he could find).

  
" _Votre petite-fille est magnifique, papa."_

  
She felt like France was right next to her as she said that, and she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

  
"He calls her Irina, but her real name is Isabella. Isabella Joan. You know why the Joan is in there."

  
She could almost hear his faint laugh while he nodded, remembering his precious Jeanne d'Arc.

  
"Joan felt right though, rather than Jeanne. Guess I can blame dad for that."

  
She could feel England's indignant huff through whatever veil separated them from her world. Another laugh from Francis, louder this time.

  
"Is Gilbert there?" She finally asked after a moment.

  
Nothing. Not a sound or touch, no laughter.

  
"If you see him, tell him I love him."

  
A reassuring touch, and then nothing.

  
She sighed, clutching the photo.

  
" _Tu me manque. Tout de toi."_

***

Six months passed quickly, and Madeline was called to the study.

  
Irina was awake in her playpen, playing with a toy while Ivan spoke in Russian to her. She cooed at his voice and he chuckled for a moment before realizing she had entered. He sat straighter at seeing her. "Ah, yes Madeline, thank you for coming here."

  
_The way he speaks and acts makes me feel more like an employee than the mother of his child._ She thought, but she said nothing, reaching into the crib for Isabella. Ivan let her take the child, who paused for a second in confusion, but then continued to chew on her toy.

  
"She's teething." Ivan said quietly in English.

  
"I know. She bit me earlier while I was nursing her." Madeline said, rocking the child slowly.

  
Ivan said nothing for a while, until Irina's eyes shut and she went to sleep. "It has been six months. Have you decided whether or not you'll stay yet?"

  
Madeline was silent. Once Isabella's breathing had slowed, she set her back into the playpen Ivan had set up for her to nap. "I have given it much careful thinking, and I will stay, at least for another year, if not more."

  
Ivan smiled and reached across to take her hand. "Our daughter will be the strongest nation on earth, Canada. You were so strong, and I still am. Maybe one day she will surpass both of us."

  
Canada said nothing, and Ivan came around the table to her. He lifted her from her seat, and pressed play on the small CD player he had sitting on his desk.

  
"Join me?"

  
She danced with him, quietly, and soon they were spinning gracefully across the study floor.

  
He smiled again, and it was was a joyous smile, a smile so beautiful Madeline had to admit that in another life, she would have loved him.

  
But when he guided her to his bedroom, she knew that it was not this life.

***

Maria recovered quickly, and soon after the incident, she had a growth spurt. In the period of a month, she went from the age of four to the age of twelve.

  
She began speaking fluent German with no instruction, and Russian and French as well. Neither Cuba or Mexico could understand it, yet there she was, with the hawk on her shoulder and practicing drill instructions on a virtual reality program salvaged from leftover technology America had left behind

  
"He was always good with video games, but I never saw him play this." Mexico whispered to Cuba one afternoon as they watched the girl play her war games.

  
"I think she made it by piecing together old first person shooter games and actual military technology." Cuba replied back.

  
" _Luftangriff, jetzt!"_ She shouted at the box, which recognized her voice. "Quadrant four, aim for the tanks and barricades!"

  
They both watched her, interested, but also horrified.

  
"Do you suppose..." Mexico began. "That she could be a reincarnation of..."

  
"It's possible." Cuba replied. “After all, it has… it has happened before.”

  
" _Nien_ , Quadrant Four, _dummkopf_!" Maria snapped at the screen, oblivious to the conversation behind her.

***

Maria collapsed onto the bed, wiping away the sweat. She had taken to a morning run, followed by intense cardio and calisthenics, her chores, military strategy study, and then the virtual reality war games. After this, she would do an evening run before dinner, have dinner, and then do yoga before heading to bed. And while Mexico took her siesta during the afternoon, she read books, praying that when she went home to Europe, she'd be able to fight nearly half as well as her father.

  
Mexico gasped when she'd seen her running outfit the first time. "Maria, you'll sweat to death!" She had stated with her motherly concern.

  
"Better than sunburnt skin." The albino had replied, before bolting out the door so Mexico couldn't catch her.

  
Now Mexico just left a bottle of ice water on the counter for her when she began to prepare dinner.

  
Maria stopped in the park, taking a swig from the bottle. Most of the people in the area had become familiar with her run. Some even told her that they set their watch by her. She sighed as she looked around. She liked this route, but she'd have to change it after her next growth spurt, though she had no idea when that would be. The problem with being a nation.

  
She was just about to start moving again when some idiot sixteen year old boy suddenly decided to snap her bra straps under her shirt.

  
_"¡Vete a la mierda!"_ She snarled, turning on him. She was used to this, sadly.

  
He grinned. _"Prefiero tener usted."_

  
Oh, there was no way this potential rapist was going to lay a hand on her. But she had dealt with these boys before, and they usually left her alone without too much of a fight. She shook her head and started to walk off. He wasn’t worth the effort.

  
He grabbed her shoulder.

  
She swung around and hit him in the jaw, which was a shame because she'd been aiming for his nose. Still, he took a step back before locking back onto her, his eyes growing dark at her actions.

  
_Okay, vati, help me send this bastard back to hell._ She thought, bracing for a fight.

  
He came at her and she ducked to the side, swinging around and grabbing his arm to twist it. He whirled right as she dropped to a semi kneel and raised her fist towards his groin. She connected, and then leapt up, slamming the sole of her shoe into his instep.

  
He grabbed her hair to pull her down, and she grinned, putting her elbow out so it landed straight in the middle of his chest. She whirled, and he managed to give her a black eye right before she broke his nose. Blood came rushing out.

  
A policeman was running over, and she went right to him. " _Officer, he tried to grab me!"_

  
_"I saw, don't worry miss."_ The officer said, heading towards the boy with a menace that matched an angry Esperanza in his steps.

  
Maria waited until the officer was done shouting at the boy to approach him and admire her handy work. He looked like hell, and it would probably be hard for the officer to believe it she had done it if he hadn't seen it happening.

  
" _Officer, may I head home?"_ She asked after a moment.

  
He looked at her, and then nodded. _"I think you can defend yourself pretty good, miss. Go home."_

  
" _Thank you."_ She said before leaving the park at a light jog, heading straight home. She had no desire to continue the rest of her run with blood on her shirt and a black eye.

***

Mexico liked to consider herself a very easy-going mother.

  
Sure, she panicked over Maria's illnesses and she'd nearly died of worry the first time she'd went out running in those long pants and long sleeve shirt, but she was a pretty easy mother to have, wasn’t she?

  
But when she saw Maria entering the house, late for dinner for the first time ever, sporting a black eye and blood on her shirt, well...

  
To say she flipped out would be to put it mildly.

  
" _WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!"_

_  
"I'm fine, Mexico, I'm fine."_ Maria said as she reached for a t-shirt she kept next to the door.

  
" _THAT'S NOT WHAT I ASKED, MARIA!"_

_  
"I got into a bit of a skirmish on my run. That's all."_

_  
"What kind of skirmish?!"_

_  
"A bit of a fight, okay, but I won and I'm fine, that's all that matters."_

_  
"That's not all that matters! Who was it? I'll call the police!"_

_  
"That's not necessary, a police officer was there and he told the boy off."_

_  
"A boy?! MARIA!"_

_  
"Look, I'm fine! ABSOLUTELY FINE! JUST LET ME GET SOMETHING TO EAT BEFORE I GO TO BED!"_ She snapped, and Mexico snarled before heading back to the dining room.

  
Dinner was devoured in relative silence, and shortly afterwards, Maria stormed off to take a shower. Esperanza sighed and waited. She would be up for another hour or two, though Maria would likely be in bed within half an hour.

  
She was about to read a magazine when she heard something being thrown against the wall and shattering. " _Fick!"_

  
She stood and went to Maria's door. "Maria? Is everything okay?" When no response came, she opened the door and found Maria crying, holding the Iron Cross pendant in her hand.

  
"The fucking ribbon snapped." She said, a sob coming through her voice.

  
Esperanza took it and examined the ribbon. It was past the point of repair. "I'll go put a new ribbon in it." She said. Some of the anger from earlier came through her voice, yet at the same time, she couldn’t remain angry at the girl for very long.

  
Maria nodded as she wiped away the first tears forming in her eyes, and Gilbird settled down next to her, calm.

  
Esperanza returned and Maria took the Iron Cross, retying it to her neck. The hawk reached up and touched it's beak to the metal, and then flew back up into the rafters, her favorite place since she began to fly.

  
"Maria?" Esperanza began, but then stopped, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

  
She looked at her with blue eyes asking many questions. "Yes?"

  
"You don't really consider me your mother, do you?"

  
Maria didn't say anything for a while, but when she began, it hurt.

  
"No. I remember my _mutti_ , Canada. She found me, saved me. She taught me that others can be trusted. She and Kumajirou are the reason I'm alive. You've raised me, taught me, and I consider you to be a wonderful woman, but no, I don't consider you my mother. Canada is."

  
Mexico nodded and stood up to leave. She needed to nurse her pain alone.

  
"Esperanza?"

  
She turned.

  
"I love you." Maria whispered, as if those words were forbidden.

  
Mexico smiled, although it was pained. "Te amo, Maria."

***

Years passed.

  
Irina grew up in front of her, and yet Canada almost wished she had left when she could.

  
Irina refused to let her call her Isabella, even in private, and didn't want to learn French or English. She learned Ukrainian happily enough, but she refused to learn anything else. She was her father's daughter, and as stubborn as an ox.

  
She was six, though her appearance was closer to eight or nine. Russia had finally learned to discipline her occasionally, though often it fell to Madeline to give out punishments. Thus, she was the least favorite parent.

  
Madeline often found herself in bed with Russia anymore. She had learned that in order to have quality time with her daughter, she needed to spend time in Ivan's bed. It had lead to some interesting arguments, but what had hurt most was when Switzerland called her a traitorous whore, and Hungary had refused to look her in the eyes.

  
So she clung close to what she had left. North Italy was affectionate enough towards her, and she couldn't help but smile in his presence. Ukraine still liked her, and the Baltics seemed kind enough towards her.

  
She had flown to Italy's house for several reasons, but there was another reason as well.

  
Cuba was visiting.

  
Italy greeted her at the airport, grinning. "Ciao!"

  
Despite his grin, she knew he still hurt. That was part of his strength. Being able to hide the pain behind a smile. She smiled back, and the nation took her by the hand, skipping off towards his car.

  
She enjoyed the ride in the Ferrari. Feliciano had grinned when he showed her. "This is my baby." He said affectionately. "Hasn't failed me yet."

  
She smiled at his enthusiasm, and climbed in.

  
The house was warm, as she remembered it from her visits before the war. Lovino had shown her around once, and even gave her an incredible copy of one of the pieces of artwork hanging in the living room. It showed a Roman woman holding a basket of fruit on her hips, smiling at some unseen figure in the distance.

  
When she saw the original, she smiled. Feli was in the kitchen, excited to share his pasta with a guest. She could hear him moving around while he worked.

  
It was evening, and she looked out the western window to watch the sunset. It was gorgeous, the colors making her wish she had lived in Ancient Rome, or during the Renaissance, just so she could have experienced it all.

  
When he came back into the room, the sun had just finished setting, and he found Madeline gazing at the painting.

  
"That was one of Lovi's painting." He said, looking at it as well, his voice only hinting a note of sorrow.

  
"It's always been one of my favorites." She replied, looking at it. "He gave me a beautiful copy of it once. It used to hang in my apartment in Vancouver."

  
"Used too?" Italy asked curiously.

  
She looked up and met his eyes sadly. "The building was destroyed during a battle. I was in Toronto at the time."

  
He nodded, and for a moment they simply stood there in silence.

  
"Well, the pasta will get cold soon." He finally said, and Canada nodded. They needed to return to the present for the moment.

  
They ate their meal peacefully, sipping on wine and talking about the old days.

***

The next morning, they drove to the hotel Cuba was staying at. Italy dropped her off in the back and she went up the fire escape to the fifth floor. She'd checked earlier, and the hotel was being watched and protected by the Cuban government, so the Russians were temporarily displaced.

  
She knocked on the window, and it was opened quickly, and she lept inside.

  
Carlos nodded to her, and she nodded back. He held up two fingers.

  
_Ah. The room's been bugged by the Russians, though._ She thought as she glanced at him.

  
He pulled out a notepad and pen and handed her a note. _She's almost an adult._

  
She scribbled back a response. _How old does she look?_

_  
Sixteen. Mexico has been raising her like you asked. The past few years she aged normally, but before that, it was in bursts._

  
Canada nodded, and Carlos handed her photos. She stared at the young woman in front of her, grinning at the camera with a hawk on her shoulder and a military uniform on.

  
_Mexico has let her train her own police squad the past few years, and she's been studying with my generals, like you requested._ Carlos added swiftly, and Canada nodded again, proud of this girl.

  
Cuba watched her and then showed her another piece of paper, a note.

  
_ Whenever you're ready, mutti, I'm ready to make vati proud. _

_  
-Maria _

  
Madeline took a deep breath, wishing her child hadn't grown up so fast.

  
_You could go back home._ Cuba suggested. _She would be delighted to see you._

  
She shook her head. _I have Isabella to worry about now, though she hates me._

_  
Isabella? I thought your daughter was named Irina._

_  
He didn't ask, so I didn't either. Two names._

  
Cuba nodded, just as someone knocked on his door. He turned."Sir, the Italian ambassador is downstairs." The voice called out through the door.

  
"Ah, very good. I'll just be a moment." Carlos replied.

  
He turned to tell Madeline one last thing, but she was already gone. The window was open, and the curtains lifted softly in the breeze.

  
But then he spotted something on the ground.

  
He picked up the small piece of wood and realized it was a carving of a mother holding a child.

  
He smiled slightly, tucking it away for Maria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> French  
> Mon fille-my daughter  
> Votre petite-fille est magnifique, papa.- Your granddaughter is beautiful, papa.  
> Tu me manque. Tout de toi. -I miss you. All of you.
> 
> Spanish  
> Ciudadano Mexicano-Mexican citizen  
> ¡Vete a la mierda!-Fuck off!  
> Prefiero tener usted.-I prefer you instead.  
> Te amo, Maria.-I love you, Maria
> 
> German  
> Hör auf! Hör auf! Hör auf!-Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!  
> Luftangriff, jetzt!-Airstrike, now!  
> Nien, Quadrant Four, dummkopf!-No, Quadrant Four, idiot!  
> Vati-dad  
> Fick -fuck  
> Mutti-mom
> 
> Italian  
> Ciao!-Hello


	6. Chapter 6

When Madeline returned to her home to Russia, she found that dozens of Russia's most trusted men surrounded the house, and police cars and officers outside. She stared in shock at the scene before, her, and a police officer turned and began to shout at her.

"Ma'am, you need to leave. A crime was committed here earlier, and we don't need you in the way."

"I live here! What happened?"

"There was an attempted kidnapping. Now ma'am, I need you to leave..."

Before he could complete his sentence, one of Ivan's private security guards grabbed her and rushed her inside the police line while the officers shouted nasty words, but once inside the gates, the murmuring died down. She looked at the young man and spoke. "What is going on?"

"Go inside and someone will explain. And don't come back out."

She paused, and then headed inside. As soon as she saw the youngest nation, she grabbed Latvia's shoulder, startling the poor boy who was shaking much more than usual.

"What's happened?!" She asked, her fear rising.

"There was an attack on the house. Someone tried to kidnap Irina." He managed to get out, and he might have said more, except Madeline dashed up the stairs two at a time, abandoning her luggage.

"IVAN! IRINA!" Madeline heard herself scream as she ran.

Ukraine grabbed her hand when she appeared at the top of the steps and pulled her towards the study, where Ivan held Irina close. She was sobbing as he held her close.

"Irina?" Canada said, rushing to her daughter.

The girl turned and practically leapt into her mother's arms. Canada was surprised. Irina had rarely shown her this much affection. She held her daughter tightly to her, while Ivan's eyes darted around the room.

Suddenly he drew a pistol and shouted in Russian. They all dropped to the floor, and he shot at the closet. Irina shivered against her mother. He rushed towards the closet, and tossed open the door.

Nothing was there, and Russia paced the room, anxious, as the three women remained on the ground. Canada crawled over towards Ukraine, Irina in her arms. Ukraine spoke in French, in order to avoid scaring Irina.

" _Three men with military training broke into her room, we barely managed to stop them from taking her. Natalia is chasing after them. He hasn't left the study since, other than for the bathroom, and he keeps Irina here with him."_

_"How paranoid is he right now?"_ She asked, afraid.

" _Very. He recognized one of the men. The team was from his own government. He believes they want to raise Irina the way he was raised, with no mercy."_

Now Madeline understood the security increase. Ivan had always trusted his own private security more than the government provided bodyguards. The police were outside, so they must be involved, though he probably wished they weren't.

" _How long ago?"_

_"About six hours ago."_

Madeline stood up slowly and walked over to Russia, laying a hand on his arm. He looked at her, a hand still on his pistol.

"Ivan, call Alexandra and Petrov. Let them guard Irina in one of the interior rooms. You need rest." She reasoned with him. Alexandra and Petrov had proved their loyalty a thousand times over, and if he were to trust anyone, it would be them.

He stared at her for a long time before nodding, looking as though a giant weight had just been removed from his shoulders. He grabbed a handheld radio and soon, the two bodyguards took her daughter to a safe room. They kissed her goodnight before she went, and soon Canada guided Russia to their shared room.

He sat on the bed, holding his head in his hands.

"Ivan..." She began, concerned.

"They would torture her if they got ahold of her, Madeline. No food if she disobeys, beatings if she makes a mistake. Tie her up if she tried to come home. And when she grows..."

He left the thought unfinished, and Canada realized she had never seen Russia so vulnerable.

_Papa, what should I do?_

Nothing happened, no feeling of warmth or of danger. France was leaving her to figure this one out on her own.

She sat next to him and took one of his hands. He glanced over at her, and she found herself speaking.

"I'm older than Alfred. Always was. I was born when the first Vikings arrived in Newfoundland. Alfred wasn't born until about two hundred years later, when Madoc landed. Both of us struggled to survive, and the native nations, well... Alfred had it lucky. Madoc left descendants behind, and the tribe kept him with them, along with their own nation. England said he was quite the little 'savage' when he found him."

"I didn't have it nearly so easy. Almost all the Vikings went back to Iceland and Greenland or Norway, and the few the remained died or were killed. Most of the native nations had no care about me. I was the sign of an invasion which had brought destruction on them. Norway abandoned me to die, and the native nations hoped the cold would finish the job. But I survived. When France found me, I went straight to him. He had been the first person to offer me food since the day Norway sailed away."

Russia looked at her, and she looked away.

"He abandoned you?"

His tone let her know he meant Norway.

"Yes. I was so weak, and he was nearly dead himself. Iceland was still a baby, and he went home. I don't think he ever realized that the nation of Canada is the Vinland he created."

Russia looked at her for a long time, and she finally gazed back at him. He took her hand and spoke.

"How long were you alone?"

"Does it matter? Canada was remote, might have even been safe if I hadn't been starving. Occasionally Al and I crossed paths, but we never really lived together until England took me away from France."

They sat in silence until Russia finally pulled off his shirt, tucking the pistol alongside the bed. She got him under the covers and soon he was fast asleep.

Once that was done, she went downstairs and found the Baltics nervously milling about the kitchen.

"Lithuania?"

They snapped to attention, and Estonia and Latvia began to nervously back away.

He came over to her and nodded. "Yes, Miss Canada?"

"How do I call Belarus?"

He stared at her like she had spiders crawling out of her nose.

"I know she trusts you to keep her secrets, even if she doesn't like you back. How do I contact her?" Madeline pressed, knowing that despite the fact that she technically held the same status as they did, she still had the upper hand.

Lithuania sighed, and then pulled out a cell phone. "The only number on it. She won't be happy with you." He added as Canada opened it.

"I know." She added, before heading towards the basement tunnel, which would lead her to a small house on the edge of Russia's property. From there, she could take a car and head out into the night without the knowledge of the police.

***

Belarus was sipping on a tea, watching one of the men. He thought he was safe, smug bastard, and stopped to enjoy a drink at midnight. So she had sent men after the others and decided to deal with this one personally.

Her phone began to ring, and she nearly snarled, pulling it out of her bag. The only person who should be calling her was her brother, and she knew he wasn't the one on the other end of the phone.

When she answered, it was the bitch who ruined everything.

" _Where are you?"_

Natalia growled. "Why are you calling?" She heard the roar of the car in the background, revealing Canada was on the move towards her.

" _Someone has attacked my child, Natalia. I know you hate me, but that child is mine as much as she is Ivan's. So, for the sake of your niece and brother, where are you?"_

Belarus paused, and then sighed. "Bar near the border. One of the idiots thought he was safe. The others are still on the run, but someone is tailing them for me."

" _I'm on my way."_

"No, I don't..."

But the phone clicked, and Belarus swore.

She went back to her tea, muttering into the drink as she continued to sip at it.

***

Madeline arrived at the bar to see a male figure watching a lone woman on the other side of the dance floor.

_Belarus_.

She didn't look very good though, panting, and wiping at her brow. Madeline saw her cast a glare at the man, and he clearly knew she was watching him.

Madeline didn't know what was going on, but she knew she couldn't let him escape. She went right over to the man, beginning an exchange in Russian.

" _Hello, Handsome. You alone?"_

The figure looked at her for a moment, and then nodded.

" _How about a dance then?"_

He grinned, and Madeline dragged him out onto the floor, but when she put her head onto the man's shoulder, she was gazing at Natalia.

She seemed ill, unlike the feisty woman she had spoken to less than an hour ago.

The man put his hand where he shouldn't, but she ignored it, watching Natalia. Belarus spotted her, and stood up, lurching towards her, and she almost made it, but suddenly collapsed.

Madeline ripped herself away from the man. " _My god, that woman! Is she okay?"_

She knelt down next to Belarus and quickly spoke to her. "Is that him?"

"Yes... something in... drink..." She sputtered.

Madeline turned to see the man slipping out the front. She stood up, leaving Natalia behind, praying whatever it was had just been to subdue her. As the other patrons crowded around, it provided her with a cover. She hit the pavement and ran for the figure disappearing into the distance.

The man was almost to his car when she grabbed his shoulder, and felt a sudden rush of strength she hadn't felt since...

Since she'd lost the war...

She threw him to the ground, and had his gun out and aimed at him before he'd even begun to reach for it.

" _You came into my husband’s house, and tried to kidnap my child. WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?!”_

He glared at her as he realized she was working for the other side. " _You will regret this, whoever you are."_

She grinned with anger, lifting him with one hand. " _Oh, no. I want to know who you are, why you're here."_ She tightened her grip on his collar. " _In case you haven't figured it out already, I'm commanding you now."_

The click of a gun barrel behind her head let her know her friend wasn't alone, which wasn't surprising. The man who had tried to steal her child had an accomplice. She watched the grin cross his face, and she let her own face go blank.  
" _You must be a friend of that girl inside. Drop the gun or I shoot you."_ A new voice said from behind her.

Canada stood up straight and dropped the gun, keeping her hand tightly in the other man's collar. " _Oh, my husband will have so much fun making the light leave your eyes."_ She said, letting a grin come to her face.

" _Hah, bitch. He ain't even gonna be able to find you when this is all over."_ The first man said, as though he doubted this woman could take even one of them on.

She laughed and suddenly flung the dick over the hoods of three cars, whirling on his little friend. The guy was so startled she kicked him down into the ground and knocked him unconscious before he could even look at her again. Taking the pistol, she went for the ass grabbing dick.

He was laying in the middle of someone's hood, looking startled as she glared down at him. Madeline grinned again, and raised the pistol. He cowered at her.

" _So, let's try this again. Who do you work for, and why do you want my daughter?"_

The man spoke. " _We want to restore the old map. We're government rogues!"_ He shouted.

She was confused for a moment. Government rogues? Restore the old map?

In her moment of distraction, the man lunged for the pistol, and she knocked him out with a good whack on the head.  
Once business was taken care of, she went back into the bar to find Natalia puking into a bowl. A young man was next to her. " _Someone slipped something into her drink. I wasn't going to induce vomiting, but who can control the body?"_

_"Are you a doctor?"_

He nodded. _"She'll be fine in a bit. There's an ambulance on the way."_

Natalia spoke at that moment. " _She's my sister in law. You can leave, Doctor. She'll keep me safe."_

The man tried to refuse, but Madeline said that she was a paramedic herself, and then he backed off. Natalia spoke in French to Maddie as quietly as she could. "The amount of poison in that drink should have killed a normal human twice. We need to get out of here before they start asking questions."

Canada helped her stand up. "Mind sharing the backseat with two unconscious would be kidnappers? If they wake up, you might even get to stab them?"

"That sounds wonderful." She replied, ice in her voice. "Just get me fucking out of here."

And then, before anyone could object, Canada rushed Belarus out of the building and into her vehicle, driving away before they could stop her.

***

Russia watched Canada carry Belarus to bed while the now gagged and handcuffed men tied to her waist were dragged up the stairs behind her. He stared.

He had seen America pull a car through the wilderness, but this... This was something new to him. The two men seemed to be regretting their decisions more every minute they were dragged behind this woman.

Once Belarus was tucked in, she returned with the two men still behind her. "Two more are in Ukraine right now. There is a SWAT team heading to intercept them. This one..." She stated, pointing to the left, "was part of the team. His friend tried to poison your sister. She'll wake up in a few hours and probably regret her tea."

He nodded, ignoring the men for a moment. "Your strength. Did you get that from America?"

She shook her head. "We both had it. It wasn't until his death, however, that people started seeing me well enough to remember that I had it."

Without saying another word, she dropped the tethers and went upstairs to Irina's room, leaving Russia alone with two men he would be plenty happy to destroy. He dragged them downstairs and locked them into the basement.

***

Maria was reading a newspaper in a Havana cafe when Carlos sat down across from her. "I think another growth spurt is starting." She told him, sipping her coffee. Not even a hello. Of course, she had seen him from several feet away.

Carlos looked at the young woman before him, with long white curls and pale skin, shielded from the sun in her long shirt and pants. So different from the child Canada had left him with several years before. Above, a hawk circled. Gilbird, he guessed. He sighed. "You're all grown up now, my dear."

She set down the paper, finally gazing at him. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No, but I fear you must soon make a decision on what you are going to do with your life. Mexico and I have only been able to take you so far. There is nothing more we can give to you. Now you must decide whether you're going to take action and go to war against Russia or go to him and ask to be allowed to be allowed to represent the Germanic people of Europe."

Maria said nothing, and then spoke. "Peace is not an option, Carlos. There are whispers these large nations you and your friends have constructed are beginning to feel the pressure of collapse. But until my _mutti_ is back at my side, I will stay hidden."

Cuba sighed, knowing how stubborn this girl was. "Mexico loves you, yet you're here with me. Argument?"

She sighed right back at him. "None of your business right now."

He shook his head. "You have to go home and apologize before I give you this."

She looked up to see a letter with her name written on it. "You saw her in Italy?!"

"Uh huh, and if you want to read the letter, you need to tell Mexico how much you love her and give her a great big hug, and you need to mean all of it."

Maria sighed. "She told me that it was pointless to keep waiting for _mutti_ to return. She has a daughter with Russia. She won't be coming back home to me. I got angry. I'm not apologizing."

He nodded, and then spoke. "She is actually coming to Canada soon. She called me on my flight back here."

Maria looked up in surprise, shock covering her face.

"Someone tried to kidnap her other daughter, and she and Russia have decided that the best course of action is to move her to Canada. He will go back home, and she will continue raising their daughter here in North America."

Maria was shocked, and Cuba had to hide a smile. She would finally get to see her mother after all these years?

"Now, do you want to go apologize to Mexico, or should I keep this letter?" He said, holding back a small laugh in his voice.

She slapped some money on the table before taking off down the street towards the hotel where Mexico had booked a room less than an hour before. He chuckled, watching the hawk follow her from above.

Years ago, Mexico had asked him if he thought this child was a reincarnation of someone long gone. He had agreed. Now more than ever, he knew it was true.

" _It's good to have you back, Prussia."_ He whispered in Spanish, slipping away in silence.

***

The flight would have been better if not for the turbulence as they descended into Toronto. Irina clung to her father, who tried to reassure her, even though he hated planes himself. Canada looked at them and sighed. She was so eager for them to land, and for him to leave again. For the first time since she had left to find Maria, she could be in her homelands without him.

Once they landed, Petrov went out to hail a taxi, and Madeline spoke to Russia in French. " _Must they stay with us?"_

_"Yes, that is not an option, Madeline."_

She sighed, but then an old friend came bounding up.

"Kumajirou!" She said, embracing the bear. He began to lick her face, happy to have her back at home. He had been unable to stay in Russia for more than a few months during her pregnancy, so she had insisted Russia allowed her yearly visits. He had accompanied her on all of them, but she had been able to manage her own lands to some extent and see Kuma.

The bear lay comfortably in her arms as the taxi came around. Canada, Alexandra, and Irina got into the first taxi with Kuma, and Petrov and Russia rode in the second.

They diverted, heading to different locations. Canada had chosen a new house in a gated community, which Russia had placed his own agents in, to protect Irina. Canada had her own agents as well, some of whom had told her to push this specific community for reasons unknown to her.

Russia would be staying in her old apartment tonight, and say she was on a later flight. Tomorrow a decoy Madeline and Irina would arrive. Madeline settled into her new home, and was glad to find the freezer well stocked with fish. Once Kuma was fed, she began to explore with her daughter.

This was a four bedroom house, one for her, one for Irina, and one apiece for Petrov and Alexandra. She debated which room to claim as her own, but Irina didn't.

"This one!" She stated, pointing into a room with light purple walls. The bed was a full, Madeline guessed. There was a reading lamp, a window to let light in, and a bathroom.

She nodded, unpacking Irina's bag into the dresser. "We're not going to be able to leave the house for a few days, Irina, but after about a week, we can. You promise to listen to Alex and I?"

She nodded.

As Madeline continued to explore, she found the Jack and Jill rooms. Those were obviously for Petrov and Alex. She finally found the master bedroom, and as she reached to open the large wooden chest in the middle, she heard a noise behind her. She whirled, and was surprised to discover a set of stairs in the large, walk in closet, behind a shelf that was easily moved to reveal or hide the entrance.

Climbing up the stairs, she found a little attic area with a nice hardwood floor, but no windows. She turned around, wondering why this was here.

Then she saw the fifth bed tucked into an alcove in this small spare room. Walking over, she found a note tucked into the sheets.

_ Once he leaves Canada, find me. I'll know if you tie a red ribbon in the downstairs window. _

_ -Maria _

She went downstairs to her bedroom and looked across the street, where one of her agents lived. She knew these stairs hadn't been shown in the plans for the house.

_What other surprises are hidden here, I wonder?_

***

Maria sat across the street, watching from the attic in this house. It had been a pain to keep the Russian agents from finding any signs of the hidden design changes. There would be a button that would seal up the wall in the alcove.

She sighed and looked down at her notebook, full of entries and battle schematics. She had approached this like a soldier rather than a spy. Sometimes you needed a balance between the two. Reaching up to hold the Iron Cross, she wondered what she could do.

After a while she heard footsteps and turned to see Lewis, her mother's agent behind her. "When you're done with the spying, food is downstairs. He won't leave Canada for at least three days."

She knew that already, but she just sighed. "I haven't seen her in almost ten years. She's my mother and I don't even know who she is."

He shook his head. "Come on, come eat some food. You'll feel better later."

***

He came the last day, about four hours before his plane left. Irina was so happy to see him, Canada almost had to smile with her, though her smile was for different reasons, not that he could tell.

He kept Irina close to him, telling stories in Russian and giving her affection. Finally, he had to leave.

He turned to Canada on the front step. "Keep her safe. I don't know how long I'll have to be gone."

She nodded. "Don't worry, she will be."

Once he was gone, she turned and sighed, relieved he was going away.

It was time for her to raise her daughter, and let her know what her real name was.

_Isabella Joan._

***

Back in Russia, the police had finally given up and left. Russia nodded as his house returned to a state of almost normal.

He paused one night before slipping down into the basement, where the four men who had attempted to kidnap his child slept. He paused before doing what he needed to do.

A trap had been set.

Now he just needed someone to walk into it.


	7. Chapter 7

Irina found her mother's behavior after her father left quite strange. She began homeschooling her in French, and if she tried to avoid it, sneaking away as she had before, she got smacked up the head and brought back to the classroom, and not even always by her mother, but Alexandra and Petrov! She also had to learn English, Spanish, and German. It was infuriating.

"I'm never going to use these!" She finally shouted one day after a particularly brutal quiz. "Why should I bother learning them?!"

Mother locked her eyes onto her, seeming annoyed herself with her daughter. "If you want to speak to anyone, you need to know these languages. English is still spoken as a common language here in Canada, and most of the people you meet will know French. If you go to Cuba or any of his territories, you will need to know Spanish. Travel to Central Europe? You need German. Now sit down and listen up."

She began doing morning exercises (by force), and studying strategy (in much the same way), as well as Canadian and American history.

"These nations don't exist anymore!" She complained as she was drilled about the War of 1812.

Her mother shook her head. "Doesn't mean they aren't important."

Irina realized she had touched a nerve when her mother dismissed her right after this little comment and, pulling out a photo, began to cry.

Irina might have preferred her father to her mother, but that didn't mean she didn't love the former nation of Canada very much.

Still, as she fell into bed every night, exhausted and annoyed, Petrov and Alex were just as glad to see the changes in Irina. She started asking more questions, looked healthier, and when she tried to command them and they ignored her, it let her know she wasn't the boss anymore. For years Russia had pampered his little girl. Now Canada was forcing her to grow up.

Canada was teaching her daughter that she couldn't be the ruler of the world by birth. She had to earn it.

***

Maria had seen her mother for the first time in years during a morning run. Canada had her red hoodie pulled up tight, hiding her golden curls. Maria had done the same.

Canada dropped a piece of paper fifty yards ahead of her, and then kept running. Maria, nearing it, pretended to drop her iPod, and knelt down to pick it up, shoving it into her pocket with the musical device. Standing up, she continued running.

Returning to the house, she opened it up and read the note.

_ Meet me at the park tomorrow morning. Run into me and spill my coffee. Offer to buy me a new one. They will be watching us. _

Maria made her plans and prepared for the next morning.

***

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry ma'am! Are you alright?"

Canada nodded, standing up and brushing off her jacket. It had been artfully done. She looked the young woman in the face. "Yes, I'm fine."

"I didn't see you, and I just... I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, no bumps and bruises or burns, just some spilled coffee."

"Let me buy you a new one, just to make up for it." The girl began, looking very remorseful.

"That's not necessary." Canada began, using the excessive politeness she was known for.

"Oh, I insist." Maria added on, and Canada knew that she had to let her resolve slip.

Canada nodded. "Alright then. Thank you."

As they walked towards the coffee stand, Canada spoke under her breath so that the agents she was were tailing her couldn't hear anything. "Excellent job, my darling. That couldn't have been more convincing."

Maria nodded, her hood down tight. "We need to make a plan of action. He has to be brought down. Order has to be restored, and this is not it."

"I know, mon fille. Just stay calm until the time is right."

"But when will the time be right? You're away from him. Isn't now the perfect time to strike?"

They reached the coffee stand and Madeline ordered. "Medium mocha with a shot of espresso, please."

Maria added her own order. "Medium black, nothing added."

Once they had paid and received their orders, they went and sat down at a table. "Now isn't the best time to attack. Irina, despite her human like growth, is a nation. She still sides with her father. I do not wish her to find out about our war with a strike against a people that might be her own."

Maria sipped her coffee silently. Madeline added extra. "She has already begun to learn several more languages. Soon I will tell her about her conception. I hope it will let her know that although he has always been there, he is no saint. That alone could bring her faith in him crumbling down."

Maria nodded. "You plan to turn her to our side."

"Or keep her neutral. Once we are ready to strike, she will either be with us, or kept safe by us. Either way, she is not her father, and deserves to live."

Maria nodded, and then stood up. "I should go before they get suspicious."

Canada nodded, and added one last thing. "There may be a rogue government in Europe. They tried to kidnap Irina. I believe they are looking for a nation to lead them. Find out what you can."

She nodded before leaving.

***

_Rogue government in Europe. Wonder if it's mine._

Maria looked up surveillance photos of the area. Once again, her salvaged technology from her uncle had saved the day. The satellites were still in orbit, and she had rigged up her own viewing station on her laptop.

The majority of Europe was growing restless, tired of the oppressive conditions they were being held under. She knew it from the feeling in her heart, the impatience filling every ounce of her body as she longed to charge into battle. And she knew she was not alone. Most of western and central Europe were on the edge of a knife, waiting for the right moment to strike.

She held the Iron Cross in her fist, missing Gilbird, who was pretending to be a wild hawk. Even Russia would have noticed a hawk that looked exactly like the one which had flown on Prussia's flag years ago.

She was about to turn off the laptop when something beeped. _Activity in an area of interest._

Opening up the screen, she looked at the area in question. It was the capital of the former US. Angry civilians were throwing eggs and rocks towards the soldiers guarding the White House.

As she watched, the soldiers opened fire. The soldiers streamed out into the street, beating the people, killing them with indifference, and as some rushed away, others stood there in defiance until their corpses also joined the pile.

Anger filled her every being and she knew that the revolution must begin soon.

***

"Irina, will you come here for a bit?" Canada called out one night.

Irina hurried into her mother's room, opening the door and leaning in."Yes?"

"Close the door and come sit on the bed. I want to show you some photos."

Closing the door, Irina came over to the bed, climbing up onto it. Her mother held an old album in her hands. "This is what is left of my family, besides you and your father." She said with a soft sigh.

She opened it up, and Irina stared at a photo of a young smiling man holding the arm of a woman with her head slightly bowed. They appeared to be wearing clothes from the 1840s. "Your uncle, the former nation of the United States, wanted the first photos he took to be with his family. So this is him and me."

The next photo was from the 20th century, and showed two men, one with a beard, the other clean shaven. "Your grandfathers, England and France."

Picture after picture, Irina watched them go before her eyes. She stared at these men, unknown to her, but her mother spoke of them so fondly she almost felt like she had met them. In fact, the feeling was very strong.

Then she saw a silver haired man kissing her mother, but it wasn't her father.

"Who's that?" She asked, feeling like she should know the name.

Her mother sighed. "His name was Prussia."

She looked at the man, knowing that name from not her mother, but her father. "He was a good fighter, but weak." She said, remembering her father's tales.

Canada shook her head sadly. "He wasn't weak, Irina. He was dying. Had been for years. I was actually going to give him some of my land to keep him alive, but then the war broke out."

She looked at her mother again, pausing before speaking. "You loved him?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you marry him?"

She shook her head sadly once more. "You know your father and I are not actually married, correct?"

Irina nodded.

"Prussia and I were like that. We didn't need human vows to prove our love."

They sat in silence for a while, looking at the photo, and then Irina spoke again. "Why did France kill himself? Papa said he wouldn't have hurt him."

She looked at her daughter, and sighed. "Your father had already killed a lot of people, Irina. France assumed he would not be allowed to live, and he knew England would not. He would rather die than face torture or death without England."

"That's sad."

"It's true, Irina. So many people died when your father came. Your uncle and grandfathers included. And those who survived wished to die from grief."

She looked at the photos, and reached out to touch the faces of her grandfathers. "Why did he do this?" She asked, wondering how many vibrant lives had been extinguished, how many histories had been lost in the relentless pursuit of power.

"Even I don't know." Canada replied, closing the photo album and tucking it away. "Now let's get you to bed."

Laying in bed that night, Irina felt herself beginning to cry.

_So many people..._

_So many..._

_***_

_"Who are you, child? What is the name you bear?"_

_She stood in an empty wasteland, cold and confused. "Hello?"_

_The voice spoke again. "She is a child still, father. Must she know what has happened under her father's command?"_

_"She must. In order to survive, she must."_

_Snow rose up as if a blizzard had come from nowhere, and she fought it off. "Who are you?" She yelled, trying to open her eyes and seeing nothing._

_Suddenly an old man appeared before her. "You know me, daughter of my soil." General Winter stood before her, watching her carefully, and despite the fact she had never seen him before, she knew he was who he said to be. "You must learn about what your father has done." He continued. "Come with me."_

_She did._

_***_

_Four figures sat in a room, drawing maps._

_She recognized them. China, Cuba, Vietnam, and her father._

_"Russia, America should belong to me. He owes me trillions." China stated, angry._

_Cuba stood up, angry. "What, the majority of Asia and the entirety of Africa not enough for you?!"_

_"Gentleman, calm yourselves." Vietnam said, turning to Russia, who nodded._

_"I understand your concern, but I have claim on him. He is my enemy as well as yours. But I desire Canada, and I must have America to conquer her."_

_Cuba shook his head. "She won't be willing to surrender. She's nice on the surface, but underneath, she's tougher than him." It would be best if we left her alone."_

_Russia laughed. "Don't worry, Carlos. I have the General on my side, and she does not. She will surrender soon enough after that."_

_***_

_Two men sat at the end of the table opposite of her father, both nervous and terrified._

_Her father smiled. "I am so glad you have decided to be peaceful in your surrender. You will not regret it, Italy."_

_Feliciano nodded, nervously smiling, but Romano scowled, stabbing his fork into a grape. He seemed to be waiting for something._

_A glass of wine was poured, and her father sipped at it, and then set it down. "Interesting flavor."_

_"Big brother made it himself, didn't you?" Italy prompted with a soft and hopeful smile. Romano nodded, watching Russia in silence._

_"Italy, may I speak to your brother alone for a moment?"_

_Italy, a look of fear passing over his face as he realized something horribly wrong had happened, nodded. "Uh, yes. I'll be right outside..."_

_Once he was gone, Russia lifted the glass. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't taste it?"_

_Romano shrugged. "Enough arsenic in that glass to kill you permanently. I was hoping you'd be too drunk on vodka when you got the glass for you to notice it."_

_Russia laughed. "I just must know why you did this?"_

_"You killed both the potato bastards. Feliciano will never recover. First Holy Rome, now Germany and Prussia. I wanted to save him from any more pain."_

_"Too bad it failed. Now he will have to suffer the pain of your death."_

_Romano leapt to his feet, but he was stopped by the guards, who grabbed him._

_"You fucking bastard, keep your hands off of him!" Romano screamed, trying to tug himself free if only to snarl in Russia's face one last time._

_"Goodbye, Romano. I will see you again at your execution." He said, motioning for the guards to take the southern nation away._

_They could hear the screams of both brothers long after the door had closed._

_***_

_The door was barricaded. Russia kicked it in to see a body lying on the floor, a thin and haggard figure leaning over him, sobbing._

_England turned, eyes wild with rage as he spotted the Russian. "You bloody rat faced bastard! You're the reason France is dead!" He screamed._

_"I doubt it. I do not poison people's wine." Russia replied, seeing the wine glass which had spilled it's contents across the floor._

_England pulled the body into his arms, sobbing over his beloved. Russia pulled out a gun, aiming it at the back of his head._

_"I might have even let him live. Such a shame."_

_England turned to see the barrel pointed at him, and he laughed. "You know what, shoot me! I fucking dare you to do it!"_

_Russia grinned, and England stood up. He reached up and grabbed a sword off the wall, running forward towards him to battle. He knew he had no chance, but his antics amused Russia._

_A bang, and England fell. Using his last few breaths, he grabbed France's hand. "Goodbye." He whispered._

_Two bodies lay, hands just touching, together in death as they had been in life._

_Russia turned and left. His job here was done._

_***_

_The man looked at him with hate fueling the fire in his eyes. "Always thought you'd be the end of me." He growled._

_Russia laughed at that attempt to strike fear in his heart. "It will be so much fun to display your head on a spike, as though we were back in the days of castles and knights."_

_America spat at him, and Russia laughed once more. "Oh, foolish little America, do you even know why I did this?"_

_"You're a power hungry motherfucker, that's why!" He shouted, struggling against the restraints. Once, he would have been able to break free, but like Fenrir, these bonds were inescapable for the once strong and independent nation of the United States._

_"Yes, but why did I chose you?" Russia taunted._

_America glared. "Because you hate me." He responded, venom in his voice._

_Russia laughed, pulling out a photo. "No, because I want her."_

_America fell silent as he saw the photo, fear suddenly flooding his eyes._

_"Eventually a new German nation will rise, and she will do anything to find it. I could kill her, drug her, break her, or bargain with her. Either way, I will make her life mine. She was always more beautiful than you, more...Willing to make sacrifices, including her own freedoms."_

_America yanked at the restraints again, harder this time, the fire returning to his eyes. "You touch her and I'll kill you myself, you fucking piece of shit!"_

_Russia laughed. "Oh America, your torture has only just begun..."_

_***_

_"Isabella Joan."_

_A baby was at a woman's breast, eating._

_"He keeps telling me that you're Irina Sonya. But he doesn't know who you are. You are my daughter, born of rape and love for another. You will never be Irina. You are my precious Isabella." She said, holding the child, tears dripping down her face. "You will always be my Isabella."_

_***_

_Germany lay on the floor, panting at he tried to ignore the pain. Russia stood over him, laughing. "Take your time. Perhaps it will make your death more entertaining."_

_Coughing up blood, he reached for his gun, crawling towards it. "Oh, you will fight even in death? Then I guess I have no choice." Russia said, suddenly sounding bored. He was playing with him like a cat with a mouse._

_West saw the shadow of a pipe raised, and closed his eyes, wanting to see Italy's face one last time before he died._

_A sudden shout, and a clang of metal. His eyes shot open, and there was East, holding his old broadsword, Gilbird flying overhead._

_"You want him, you'll have to kill me first." Prussia stated, glaring the frozen nation in the eyes._

_Russia laughed. "Your blood will look so pretty on the floor, Prussia. I accept."_

***

Irina snapped awake, screaming. Feet dashing from all directions, her mother bursting in right before Alexandra and Petrov. "Irina!"

She clung to her mother, and suddenly began to cry. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!" She shrieked, kicking the bed.

Alexandra and Petrov cleared the room and then mother spoke. "Nightmare, Irina?"

She nodded.

"Alexandra, Petrov, return to your rooms. All is well." She said, sighing as she sat on the mattress to comfort Irina better.

Finally they left, and Madeline sat next to her daughter. "What is wrong, Irina?" She asked after a few minutes of the girl sobbing into her shirt.

She took a deep breath before speaking. She needed to know if it was real. "What did you want to name me?"

Mother looked confused, but answered truthfully. "If I could have named you, you would have been Isabella Joan."

She started crying. Madeline held her daughter close, confused. What had happened to her daughter suddenly?

She closed her eyes. "I saw it all. I saw him kill them. The General showed it to me. Mother, I'm so sorry!"

"What are you talking about?" Madeline said in confusion, wondering what her child had seen in her dreams.

"I saw them divide up the world. Execute Romano, kill England, battle with Prussia, and tell America what he was going to do to you! Why did he do that?!"

Canada stared at her daughter and then spoke, a sob coming to her own voice. "Oh, my little Isabella Joan, I am sorry!"

***

Maria found herself sneaking past a border guard out of Switzerland and Liechtenstein into the land that had once been Germany. She felt at home, knowing this was the land of her ancestors, and of her people.

The rogue government was real, she was sure of it. They were also located somewhere here, in Germany. During the Cold War, this country had been the hotspot of conflict. They knew what it was like, to hate and fear the Russians, and grow restless underneath them.

As she walked, she came across many people, and spoke with them. She was able to find out that if she walked about ten more miles, she'd find a bus stop that still operated. From the central station, she could plot a course for Berlin.

She wasted no time, and watched Gilbird fly above, guiding her path.

_Aide me, father. Help me find them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> French  
> Mon fille-my daughter


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I've been trying to update this story every Wednesday morning, so I apologize for it being late today. I'm currently in a location where so many things are blocked, and my internet connection is spotty at best. I will try to be back on track next Wednesday.

Madeline sat with her child through the whole night, and eventually Irina spoke.

“You never wanted me, did you?”

Madeline stared at the child, and then pulled her into her lap. “No. I prayed your father had been a different man, but I never hated you. I was tired and angry, but you are my daughter. My Isabella Joan.”

Irina paused, and then leaned closer. She looked more like her father every day, and Canada heard her whisper a sentence she had always prayed to hear.

“I think I like Isabella Joan better than Irina Sonja.”

Canada smiled, placing a kiss on her daughter's head. “Well, then, little Isabella, what do you want to do?”

She paused and looked at her mother. She knew the truth now.

She was a child born of rape, and her father had killed in order to isolate her mother and force her into this situation.

_ A new German nation will rise… _

Isabella glanced at her mother and knew in an instant. And somehow, she even knew the name of who they needed to find.

“We go help Maria fight, of course.”

Canada blinked in shock, and then nodded. “Alright, mon fille. We will do that. Tomorrow night. I will help you pack a small go bag now.”

They slipped back into her room and Isabella watched her mother swiftly tuck a hairbrush, spare pair of clothes, and a coat into a backpack. Canada nodded, and then they slid it under the mattress.

In the silence, Canada hummed her a lullaby until dawn, when she finally felt sleep steal her away once more.

And when night came, they grabbed their bags and she followed her mother.

And somehow, they escaped.

 

Isabella followed her mother and Kumajirou closely to the Ottawa apartment. She didn't know how they had managed to slip past the citizens of their gated community and their bodyguards, but they had, and she would not question how for the moment.

Opening it slowly, they let Kumajirou in first. He sniffed around and found nothing to indicate danger. Finally, he returned to the door and signaled them

Slipping inside, Canada turned on their flashlights. "Alright, Isabella, we're looking for two flag cases. They're most likely in my bedroom, so let's go there first.”

They searched through drawers, the closet, and under the mattress, and soon enough, Isabella, crawling under the bed, found them. She pulled them out and handed them to her mother, who nodded her thanks. Slipping back out of the apartment, they went into a nearby park, hiding in the darkness.

Her mother opened the flag case with Canada's red and white flag, and produced a cell phone from the inside. Isabella stared in disbelief, startled by the sudden appearance of the object. When she turned it on, there was only one number on the phone, and her mother hit the call button.

She stepped away and all Isabella caught of the conversation was the phrase. "It's time.” Part of her lack of understanding, however, might have come from the fact that her mother had spoken in Spanish, which she understood very little of.

Returning to her daughter, she took her hand. "Sorry, but we aren't going to be going home."

"Where are we going?" Isabella asked, following her quickly, though she had expected they would be unable to return to their house and plan after they had escaped so easily.

"To see the person who first told me about you."

 

Cuba was at the airport in Havana, waiting, but his face was worried.

Very worried.

Madeline ran up to him as soon as she saw him, Isabella right behind her. "Carlos, what's wrong?"

"She's not responding to anything we do. She took off for Zurich a few days ago. No one has been able to get ahold of her since."

She nodded. "And  _ him _ ?"

"He knows you and Irina are missing." Carlos said, taking a hold of Madeline’s suitcase so she could carry Kuma easier.

The young girl coughed. "I prefer Isabella."

Cuba looked at her in surprise, but he corrected himself. "Okay, sorry Isabella."

Canada spoke softly as they walked out of the airport. "Carlos, we came here to collect our supplies and go. Is something else wrong other than the lost contact? Because if there isn’t, we need to go."

He nodded. "Yes, something else is wrong, but we have to go to my house to see it."

 

The second they stepped inside Cuba’s Havana home, Canada began shivering. Carlos yanked down a parka and pulled it on before handing her one. Isabella, however, seemed too distracted to notice the cold as she looked around in wonder, and suddenly ran down the hall, her long silver hair flowing out behind her.

"Cuba, why is your house so  _ fucking  _ cold?" Madeline muttered under her breath. "I didn't even know your AC had a frozen wasteland setting."

"You think I'm doing this? Trust me, I'm about as thrilled as you are. Come on, there's a visitor here for you and your daughter."

 

Isabella threw open the door before her mother and Carlos had even made it up the stairs, gazing at General Winter. "Why are you here?" She asked, her eyes wide. She had never seen the man before.

_ "Because the world has changed for the worst, child, and you and I must correct it."  _ He replied, kneeling to look her in the eyes.

"But I'm just a kid. Not even a great one at that." She said. “How can I fight?”

He laughed.  _ "You are not a child any longer. The only reason you appear so is that your father is suppressing your growth. You are still young, but no longer a child."  _

The door opened, and the General looked at her mother. Canada stared in shock, and he spoke again.  _ "You and I will speak later. Now leave.” _

Canada closed the door and left.

He turned back to her.  _ "Do you know why you can see me?" _

She shook her head, and he sighed.  _ "Many years ago, a Nation named Keivan Rus was born to my wife and I." _

Isabella knew at once. "You're my great grandfather?!"

He nodded.  _ "I am a harsh family member to have, but I protect my own. First my daughter, then my grandson. Now, I must protect you, so you can fulfill your destiny." _

She listened to his instructions. When he was done, she heard the voice of a woman again, the same one from her dreams.

"Who is the woman you are speaking to?" She asked.

A ghost stepped out, more visible in the steam from Isabella's breath. She had black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, and golden eyes. Her outfit was made of furs, and she was beautiful. She knew her at once from Ukraine's descriptions. "Grandmother."

Keivan Rus smiled, before stepping back behind her father. Isabella nodded to the General. "I accept what must happen. Just guide me through this."

_ "We will, child. We will." _

 

Canada stood before the General, and he examined her. Finally she spoke. "Why are you here?"

_ "To aide the children, both of them. And you, since you are now part of my family.” _

She nodded, but it still didn’t answer her question. "Why?"

_ "To end the chaos of this world. The old ways must be returned too, and if one piece falls, they all will." _

"Can you tell me if Maria is okay?" She asked, desperate to know. 

There was a pause, and the the General spoke again.  _ "She is alive for now, but not doing well. You must find her soon." _

With that, he suddenly disappeared, and the room began to warm.

"As helpful as always, General Winter. So fucking helpful." Canada muttered before storming out of the room.

 

Lithuania had decided it was official. 

Russia had gone absolutely batshit insane. 

He had been gone for a week and half, unconcernedly touring the lands of Europe while his child was missing. Ukraine was a nervous wreck, Belarus was hoping they found Irina, though she could care less about Canada. Talk about gratitude. Neither of the other two Baltics wanted to talk about it, and Poland could care less. 

"Why bother about it, Liet? The longer he's gone, the better for all of us."

"When there's a kidnapping attempt, he panics, but when she disappears, he doesn't even care! Doesn't that sound suspicious and insane to you?"

Poland shrugged, looking at an old fashion magazine. Lithuania stormed out of the room finally, unable to take it anymore.

The panicked calls from Alexandra and Petrov, the fact that they were undoubtedly in Cuba. Why wasn’t Russia doing anything?!

Lithuania loved that little girl. She might be a lot like her father, but she also had her mother in her, and Canada had never been anything but kind. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt if Russia suddenly decided that his family mattered to him again. He walked to the front door.

At the door, Ukraine saw him pulling on his jacket. "Where are you going?"

"Out to find him. He has a kid he needs to care about." He said, zipping up the jacket.

She looked at him and nodded. "Good luck, Lithuania. And thank you."

 

Maria looked around as she stumbled through the streets of Munich, trying to spot a homeless person who might be able to help her break in somewhere. She needed to heal, and an old abandoned building would be ideal for hiding until she had.

Her search for the rogue government had lead her from Berlin to Munich, and then right into a patrol of soldiers who had pictures of her. She had barely escaped as it was, and now there was a bullet in her left arm, and it was limiting her mobility. She turned down a side street and spotted a man next to the door of a half destroyed building.

"Excuse me, do you have a place I can stay?" She asked in quiet German, praying he spoke it, given his Italian complexion.

He looked at her bandaged arm, the dirt on her face, and the torn jacket, and then nodded. "Sure love, follow me."

She did. He lead her into the old building, and she sat down, sighing in relief. Two children looked up at her. One was a brunette, the other a blond.

"Boys, we have a guest. I need water and any clean fabric we can spare."

"I don't want to cause you any trouble..." She began, knowing she could fight off the infection if it came to that.

The man shook his head. "It's no trouble, love. My wife will be back soon."

She looked at the older man and something seemed familiar. Dark hair, stubble across his face, a smile that seemed to be sad on a face used to joy.

_ A time long ago, when vati still held me and sung songs about his battles… _

Maria blinked. That thought, the memory…

It did not seem like her own.

One of the boys came back with a water bottle and an old t-shirt, snapping her out of her trance. "Thank you, Lovi." The man said, taking the items.

He nodded. "You're welcome, Grandpa."

She smiled as the boy walked back towards the tiny space heater. "Cute kid."

He nodded, smiling. "Found him on the streets of Rome. We picked him up and raised him."

She looked at the boys closer. The brunette, Lovi, had green eyes and some curls escaping from underneath his hat. The blond had blue eyes and a scowl on his face. "What's your name?" She asked.

A new voice rose up. "Won't say. I call him Derrick."

She turned to see a woman with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and a similar expression to the blond child. The difference was she had green eyes. She pulled out a loaf of bread from her shirt, along with a bottle of soap. "It's bath night, boys!"

They looked at her in complete and utter horror, and she turned to the man who had brought Maria in. "Who's the guest?"

"Haven't asked her name yet." He replied, finishing up her new bandage. "I'm Romulus, and this is my wife, Else."

She nodded. "Maria."

They sat and shared a loaf of bread. Maria produced a bar of chocolate and a can of tuna which added to the meal. Else glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, almost as unsure about Maria as Maria was about her.

Once the boys were cleaned, warmed, and put to bed, they began to speak.

"I heard rumors there is a rogue government group in Munich. But I haven't had any reason to find proof of it yet." Maria began.

Romulus shook his head. "I haven't heard anything about it. And we would know if there was one."

Else nodded. "Those are just hopeful rumors for the most part. The presence of Russian soldiers has gone up here. They're looking for someone, supposedly a threat to security. The description is so vague, however, we don't have any idea who. All they have is blurry shots from security cameras."

_ Enough for the army to ID me, apparently. _

Maria nodded, however, continuing on. "How is the general feeling here in this area? Zurich is rather calm, but it felt like they were hiding something."

Romulus spoke. "There's been discussion of riots and resistance efforts beginning soon, but have you heard of what happened in Washington DC and in London? There's fear in the air, and there will have to be a very good leader before people go to war."

Else laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Let's speak of something else."

Maria, realizing she would get no more news from them, nodded. "That is fine with me."

 

The next morning, she woke up as soon as the sun rose, hoping to slip away unnoticed with the dawn, but Else was already awake, brushing Derrick's hair before slipping a black skullcap over his head. "You listen to Romulus today while I'm gone, alright?"

He nodded, and she turned to see that Maria was awake. "Ah, you definitely have some German heritage. The Italians are still asleep."

Maria glanced back to see Romulus completely asleep, little Lovi curled up next to him in a ball. She smiled at the sight. Else sent Derrick back over to them, and then turned to leave.

Maria followed her out of the building, and spoke. "How long have you been on the streets?"

"Two years. The boys have been with us for about six months."

She nodded. "It's good to see you care about them so much."

Else let a small smile cross her face. "Romulus reminds Lovi of his grandfather, which is why he calls him grandpa. And Derrick, well, he reminds me of someone else, whose name I just can’t place." 

Maria nodded, and Else spoke again. “As a matter of fact, you remind me of someone whose name I can’t place. He was louder and constantly demanded attention and praise… I wish I could remember his name.”

Maria felt another strange memory.

_ “Vati, Vati, look at me!” _

_ “Stop that! You’ll get hurt!” _

_ “But Vati, I’m too awesome to get hurt!” _

"Come back tonight if you want.” Else said, breaking her train of thought. “If you can't, or have moved on, I wish you the best of luck."

With that, they parted ways, and Maria had to smile. Else reminded her of someone, though she couldn't place who it was. She was almost content.

 

Russia sat in Berlin, waiting for news from Munich. They had seen a woman and shot her, but she had gotten away.

He had to laugh at his plan. It had worked so perfectly. For years he had watched and waited, ready to finish conquering the world. He only had to destroy one of them to topple the others.

A soldier came and spoke. “Someone just caught her.”

Ivan had to grin. Now all would become one with Russia.

 

_ "Isabella Joan, listen to me." _

_ She sat in the silence, listening to Kievan Rus's voice. _

_ "Your sister is in danger. She has been sought by your father, and he will have her in his grasp very soon. We must convince Cuba to go to war." _

_ "How can we do this?" _

_ "I will send a message that threatens war. Worry not for your mother's safety. She and you will be leaving tomorrow. But when Cuba comes, listen to him. He will help us win the day." _

_ She nodded. "Keivan, who is this sister you are talking about?" _

_ "Daughter of your mother, daughter of Prussia. She will guide your path once you find her." _

_ “Maria?” _

_ “Yes, that is her.” _

"Isabella, are you awake?"

Carlos was shaking her shoulder, and mother looked concerned from the front seat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Something happened?" She asked, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.

They didn't say anything. They'd left the airport in Mexico City an hour ago.

Finally they slowed down in front of a house, and a woman came out to greet them. She had dark skin, and beautiful black brown curls. "Madeline, Carlos, come in." She said, wrapping her hands in an apron nervously.

Mother brought her forward. "Esperanza, this is Isabella Joan, my daughter."

Swift introductions were made, and then the Nation of Mexico motioned them in.

They followed her inside, and Isabella tugged on Madeline's sleeves. "Why are we here?"

"Esperanza has news she needed to tell us in person." Canada responded. “Then we will go and aide Maria.”

Inside the inner rooms of the house, they found a wounded bird. Both Canada and Cuba went white as a sheet at seeing it. Isabella looked at the bird, a wave of recognition passing through her, though she was unsure how she knew this animal. Kuma did as well, tugging at mother’s shirt.

"She came in yesterday, limping. I don't know what this means, but it isn't good." Esperanza said. “I’m worried for Maria.”

Canada stepped forward, laying her hand on the hawk's head. "Poor Gilbird."

Isabella suddenly spoke, looking off into the distance, and her voice didn't seem quite her own. "My sister."

The adults turned, and Isabella spoke again, but not to them. Her eyes were distant, looking past them all. "Where is she? I need to know, Kievan." She shut her eyes and breathed calmly.

Silence filled the room and then a slight breeze came through the windows, lifting strands of silver hair. Isabella opened her eyes up again, still speaking in that strange, distant voice. "She's been captured by Russia. He's taking her somewhere, though Kievan doesn't know where. We need to go to Budapest and find Hungary."

With that, she suddenly knelt down, fast asleep.

 

Canada watched over her daughter, seeing time pass before her. Even America's growth had not rivaled this. In the past hour and a half, her daughter had went from nine to sixteen.

"Okay, so any idea why she suddenly appears to be able to communicate with ghosts of dead nations?" Mexico asked, obviously uncomfortable.

"Probably thanks to General Winter. Always had to wonder if he was dead or alive." Cuba added, and then looked at Canada. "I've booked you two a flight to Budapest tomorrow afternoon, so you'll arrive there as soon as possible."

Canada nodded her thanks and sighed, looking back at the bed where Isabella slept. "Two daughters, and I don't know either of them."

 

Maria woke up in the back of a truck, tied up like a Christmas present. She spat out some blood, and listened to the conversation in Russian.

"He'll be happy to have her dead, but he wants to do it himself." One man muttered.

"Stupid. She'd have killed us if not for that little surprise trick up our sleeves." The other replied.

_ Must have been a dart or some sort of gas. Everything's still hazy. _

"Why is he so determined to have this girl in custody?"

"Maybe she's got information on the base. Anyhow, let's just get her back there."

The vehicle stopped a little later, and she feigned sleep as they picked her up, carrying her like a rag doll. She opened her eyes a small amount, memorizing the layout of the building as they carried her through the halls.

Suddenly she got dropped into a white room, and the door slammed shut. She sat up, startled, looking around.

This was obviously a solitary confinement room. She looked around, and began to try and wiggle her hands out of the ropes. She was halfway out of them when trouble arrived.

The door opened, and in came a tall man, wearing a tan trench coat, green pants, black combat boots, and a pink scarf. She looked up and glared at the head of silver hair and pale purple eyes.

"Hello, little Maria Gilbert. It is nice to have you among us again." Russia said as he towered over the German.

 

Maria watched him across the small table that had been brought in for them to dine together. His smile was infuriating, and when he had untied her, she would have slapped him if not for the pistol pressed into her head. Now she had to play tea party with him?! This was unacceptable!

"I must say, even all the photos I got from surveillance over the years cannot truly show how much you resemble your father." Russia said, chuckling. "That look on your face is so truly Prussia, not even Germany could pull it off.”

"What do you want?" She snapped, tired of the way he was playing with her like a cat with a mouse.

He shook his head, a grin on his face. "It's not that easy, Maria. There is nothing you can give me. It's what you can bring me by simply being here that I am interested in."

She said nothing, eating a piece of meat carefully, watching his every move.

"You see, your mother is a traitor, but she can be dealt with. However, there is a bigger threat at her side."

"What, Mexico? She isn't even your land, much less a traitor." Maria replied.

He laughed again. "We both know you consider your mother Canada. If you were Mexico's child, you wouldn't be here."

They sat in silence again, and then she spoke. "How long have you known of my existence?" 

"Since she asked for a week in Europe to find you. I tried to capture you then, but Cuba interfered. All these years, he kept you safe from me. That's why he will be the first I take over."

She stared for a moment and then spoke. "You can't be serious."

"All will become one with Russia, child."

"You're fucking insane! There are riots starting all over the world! Four countries on the planet are not enough! There are not just four cultures on the planet!"

He sighed. "For now there are four, but you know the devastation during the war. There are nations with no Nation. They will never rise. They have been erased, and so have their cultures.”

_ They will be reborn. Some of us already have. _

Maria didn't know where that thought had come from, but it was almost singing in her head. She kept silent.

"For now, I will keep you alive. Soon enough, however, your usefulness will have run its course. Good night, Maria." He turned and exited, leaving her with the food.

She sighed and crawled into her cot, slowly convincing herself that she needed to sleep.

 

_ "Maria, can you hear me?" A voice spoke,a soft and familiar French accent ringing through. _

_ "Of course she can, Francis. You're practically shouting in her ear." This time the voice was vaguely annoyed and British. _

_ "Oh shut up and let me give her the message. She needs to know." _

_ Maria heard herself speak. "What do I need to know?" She could see nothing I the darkness, but she knew someone was there. _

_ "We are being reborn, and some of us have already found our new bodies. But you must help them realize this. I need you to find Prussia." _

_ "Prussia is dead." She said, confused by what they were saying. _

_ "No, he isn't. The grave contains his body, but his spirit was reborn." The voice with the French accent said again. _

_ The British voice rang out once more. "Search inside, Maria. He's with you right now. Only you can find him. Please, just try!" _

 

Maria opened her eyes briefly, sitting up on the cot. The dream had seemed so real.

The words had also reminded her of the voice that she had sometimes heard during her childhood, guiding her. A voice of a man.

_ Prussia survives with you, my dear one. Remember that. _

She went over to the center of the room, sitting down and closing her eyes again, trying to focus her energies on seeking what she needed to find. Meditation had been a way to calm herself. Now she needed to look within.

_ We will be reborn. _

 

_ I had been struggling for years, speaking to all who could hear me. _

_ My body was fading, but I stayed alive, clinging to the life I had loved so much. _

_ At her side, I might have lived longer, but we both had our duties, and mine was to be at my brother's side. _

_ When Russia had struck him first, I had ran to my room, finding my old broadsword, and returning to fight. I caught him right before he delivered a killing blow, pipe meeting sword in a clang of metal that I had known since childhood. _

_ Germany had seen me fall, crying out. I had just smiled, brushing my fingers against his hand as I died.  _

_ "Ich liebe dich, mein bruder." _

_ He had replied. "Ich liebe dich auch, bruder." _

_ I was glad my eyes had closed before Russia delivered a fatal blow to him as well. I had lost one brother before and swore to defend the next one to the death. I had done all I could. _

 

Maria's eyes snapped open, memories filling her. The Teutonic Knights who had raised her, the childhood playfulness she had felt, her love for Hungary. The wars she had waged, Gilbird at her side. The father who had raised her, the brother she had lost, only to have him reborn again as Germany. To raise him, protect him, give herself up in order to save him from Russia's wrath. The day she tore the wall down and hugged him again. The day she told Canada she loved her, the day she died.

_ The Nations will be reborn. _

She looked at her hands. This body was new, a representation of her love for Canada and her brother. That was why she had curls. That was why she had West's blue eyes. But her skin and hair showed the world who she was.

_ I am not Prussia's daughter. I am Prussia. _

Suddenly she laughed. She knew this room. It was where he had held her years before, at the end of the second world war. She had gotten out, and he had never known how.

She would be free again.

She turned and grinned, setting her hand on the same weak panel as before.

Freedom was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> French  
> Mon fille-My daughter
> 
> German  
> Vati-dad  
> Ich liebe dich, mein bruder.-I love you, my brother.  
> Ich liebe dich auch, bruder.-I love you too, brother.


	9. Chapter 9

Hungary nearly screamed when the young woman with white hair and pale skin appeared at her door. Those eyes were a mix between pink and blue, gazing at her with the same gaze her father had held.

“Hungary?”

She nodded. “What are you doing here, child?!”

“I'm here for war.”

Hungary paused, and then nodded. “Well, then, come inside.”

Hungary turned on a radio, and left Maria with a list of frequencies. “These are the right frequencies. Chose a specific time.”

“Of course.”

 

At 12:00 AM, GMT, all around the world in the Russian empire, the people rose.

The second war had begun.

 

The flight was delayed from landing, and when they finally landed, there was chaos. Canada doubted they would have made it out of the airport if not for Kumajirou. She held Isabella’s hand and they ran after the polar bear and through the path he created for them.

Canada hurried to Hungary's house and found it had been barricaded. She broke in a window and called out for the nation, looking around in fear.

Finding her on the floor, Madeline rushed to stabilizing her, but Isabella looked around. This place seemed familiar.

Finally Hungary spoke. "They have risen up. It is time for war. Russia is striking back, though, and my people are suffering.”

Canada nodded. "Hungary, Maria is missing. Russia has her."

Hungary shook her head, bleeding. "She came here last night. She escaped from him. She's raising the army. They have already taken several Russian soldiers hostage..." Her eyes shut in pain. "But many of my people are dying."

A crash of glass in the front room. Isabella suddenly screamed, and Madeline shouted "DROP AND COVER!"

The grenade exploded in the next room over, and Madeline hurried in, fearing for her daughter. "Isabella!"

She came crawling out from under a table, and nodded. "I'm okay." Though her voice was wobbly.

Hungary came stumbling in. "We have to get out of here." She said. “It will only get worse from here.”

Isabella nodded. "Where'd you go in 1956?"

Madeline looked at her daughter, startled, but Hungary nodded, understanding what she meant. "Follow me."

 

Lithuania had hoped to convince Russia to search for his daughters hen he finally found him, but now he was sitting at a computer, typing a message dictated to him by Russia. He had officially gone insane. Completely insane

_Cuba,_

_We have reason to believe your nation is responsible for inciting these riots in our empire’s many territories. As this is the case, our ultimatum is this._

_-You allow the Russian government access to all files necessary to conduct the investigation._

_-If this investigation shows that your government was involved, you must surrender all territories in Central America to the Russian government._

_-Failure to comply with this agreement will be considered an act of war._

Lithuania hit send, knowing that the world was once again about to change for the worst.

 

Cuba walked into Mexico's room and showed her the message on his computer. She looked at him coolly for a moment and then spoke. "What do I get if I help you?" She asked, even though she knew she didn't have a choice. Cuba was better than Russia.

"Your independence from Cuba. I want every man and woman you can spare, even cartels loyal to you or money. I'll worry about drugs later." He said, and she was startled by that offer.

She looked at him and then nodded. "We have a deal." Next to her sat Gilbird, now looking healthy. Mexico looked at her calmly. "Ready to go back to Maria?"

Gilbird nodded solemnly, accepting their fate.

 

Maria stood in silence, waiting for her guests.

Madeline came in first, her youngest daughter behind her in chains. Madeline was indignant at that fact. "Take the shackles off her at once, Maria!"

Maria shook her head, and then looked at the girl. "Do you remember this room?" She asked.

Irina said nothing.

"Maria, cut out this nonsense!” Madeline shouted, having to be restrained by two guards.

"Canada, this is a perfect replica of the room where the Allies decided to dissolve me." Maria said, interrupting her rant.

Canada looked around, confused, and then looked at her oldest child. "What has happened to you?"

She ignored Canada again, returning her gaze to the young nation. "Irina, have they begun to talk to you as well? The ghosts of the world?"

Canada stepped forward, but someone grabbed her. She shouted, offended.

"I am not your enemy, sister." The Slavic nation said, quietly so that Canada could not hear.

Prussia laughed. "Oh, you are naïve. They want you to destroy me, don't they?"

"I am not the new Russia, sister. I am the old Russia. He has destroyed himself, and now even he must be reborn. I am the vessel which will take his spirit in, and restore the world. You kill me, and you will regret it. I need you, you need me.”

Canada had heard nothing of this exchange, and Irina added something to else. "It's no longer Irina. My name is now Isabella, Isabella Joan."

Prussia chuckled, her eyes flashing red for a second. "Ah, so this is a war where we are allies. Those were always better, were they not?"

Isabella nodded. "They always were."

Prussia shouted a command so that Canada could hear. "You can remove the shackles now. Both of you are invited to dinner."

 

Canada was offended by the whole affair, and it took her a while to calm down. By then, her dinner was mostly cold. Isabella, meanwhile, had dug in, and so had Maria.

"Madeline, your food is cold." Maria said, noticing her crossed arms and stiff posture.

She looked across the table at Maria. "And when did I go from _mutti_ to _Madeline_ , dearest one?" Her eyes were murderous as she said that.

Maria said nothing at first, but she finally responded. "We will be reborn."

Canada stared, and then shook her head, not understanding. Isabella, looking up, began to explain.

"Mother, I am the nation of Russia. The reason father is still alive is that he is no longer Russia. He is the Russian Empire."

Maria nodded. "He has gone mad. He is not willing to accept his life is reaching the end. He no longer heals like he should. He is growing sick in the mind."

Canada looked at them, and spoke. "If this is true, then why have only you been reborn, Russia?"

"I'm not the only one. There are many more. I can feel them somewhat, through my connection to Russian Empire. But one is in this room with us.”

Maria looked at her mother, and suddenly her eyes went completely red. "Did you miss me, Canada?"

Madeline stared at them in shock, and then stood up fast. "I need some time alone..." She said, and turned and ran from the room.

They let her leave, and the red faded from Maria's eyes. "I suspect that was too fast to spring all of that onto her." She said, sinking into her seat.

Isabella nodded, holding her posture steady. "It would have been best to wait, but this is war. There is no time."

Prussia nodded, head in hands. "War never waits."

 

Canada took a cigarette off a guard and stood on a balcony, smoking. From what she'd asked, this was only a temporary base for keeping prisoners.

She hated the cigarette, but after today's revelations, she needed a buzz, and nicotine ended up being the first thing she could find.

"I'm sorry, Madeline."

She turned to see Maria approaching. She glared and turned away from the nation she had once loved.

"Will you at least talk to me?" Maria said, sounding heartbroken.

She kept silent, upset herself.

"Look, I didn't know until a few days ago. I started having flashbacks, and then I managed to find him while I was meditating."

"You're still two separate people?" Madeline blurted out, and then growled at herself, slamming the cigarette back in her mouth.

She looked at Madeline and then shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I have his memories, and I'm starting the realize a lot of my other skills and interests came from him. It's hard to know where I end and he begins."

Canada put out her cigarette and sighed. "I wanted to raise you, but when he tried to get us to land at Heathrow, I panicked." She said, knowing that she couldn’t hold back much longer, and so she just gave up. But Maria gave her an unexpected response.

"It's a good thing you didn't. He knew I was onboard."

Canada looked at her in surprise. "How?!"

"Isabella and I have been talking. She's had dreams of America's death. Russia taunted him, told him his plans for the future of the world. He wants to build an empire, but he wants you for his wife. He let you go to Europe, knowing he could let you find me, and bring you in. From there, he could dispose of me and keep you under his control. But you got Cuba to take me in. I was untouchable in Mexico. And you were right where he could keep an eye on you, to keep you from helping me."

Canada had to sit down in shock. She collected her thoughts, and then took a deep breath before shouting. "He knew the whole time... That _MERDE!_ "

Prussia sat next to her. "Madeline, you did what was best for all of us. You saved me. And now you've saved Russia."

She cried on that balcony, so tired, so confused. Had she only been in this world to play this game of death, to dance with the man she hated most? Was that why she had never starved, even when she wished for death to take her?

A set of arms wrapped around her as they had so long ago, murmuring _ich liebe dich_ over and over as she sobbed.

 

Cuba arrived after a few days of planning and quickly found the army. Disorganized and short on leaders, but it must be called an army rather than a riot.

Maria and Isabella seemed in charge, and he was surprised. From what he knew, Isabella had little to no instruction on war. But he also felt a slight chill whenever he went near her, so that could mean General Winter was guiding her.

Gilbird rejoiced being back with Maria, who was now calling herself Prussia. She had the Iron Cross at her throat all hours of the day, and was organizing her rag tag group of soldiers into something better. Between operations and general issues, she was making people who had fought in the first war and survived train her soldiers. Those who did well climbed higher, even in the few days that had passed.

When she saw Cuba, she looked up and nodded. "War?"

He nodded. "Mexico's army is on the way, but I brought the air force into Budapest. Hope you don't mind."

She shook her head, and pointed to a map. "Think we could conduct an air strike near Kiev? Most of their troops seem to be gathering there."

He nodded, and then Madeline came into the room. She stopped at seeing Carlos. "Cuba."

"Canada." He said, looking at the woman he admired.

She was exhausted, and seemed older than she should be. He had to stop himself from rushing to her side to comfort her. Maria said nothing, but she stiffened slightly at the sight.

_She really is a reincarnation of Prussia. She thinks Canada is still hers._

They coordinated the rest of the attack, and then Cuba stepped outside, waiting for Canada. She emerged a few minutes later, furious.

He went over to her. “What has she done?” He asked, since it was clear Maria had done something to upset her.

“She has cut me out of the war as much as she can! Isabella as well. Neither of them want me fighting. And the way Maria acts… She's Prussia, if Prussia had thought I was weak.”

“She seems to have a crush on you.” Carlos said as he guided her to a bench where she sat.

Madeline nodded. “She does. Carlos, when this war is done, I want a long vacation far away from both of those girls. I… I still love them, but I need some distance while everything settles.” She sighed, looking at the ground as though the asphalt could give her the answers she was missing.

“Do you mind if I join you on that vacation?” He asked after a moment.

She looked at him, and then let the smallest of smiles grow. “Not at all, Carlos. Make it a cruise for two.”

For a moment, he saw a glimpse of the old Canada.

And he smiled too.

 

_“Child, your father is on the move. You have to strike him down outside of the original borders of Russia. While he is still within the borders, he can steal your life force to heal himself.”_

Isabella nodded as she listened, and spoke to her grandmother. “Kievan, will you and the General help me fight him?”

_“The General cannot, for Mother Nature has forbidden him. But I can. Fly to Kiev. Belarus’s people would strike you down, but Ukraine’s will keep you safe. Confront him there.”_

“I will do as you ask.”

Kievan faded away into the night, and Isabella stood, hurriedly shoving things into her backpack. She finally slung it across her shoulders and stepped outside.

“Going somewhere?” Maria was leaning against the side of her tent, Gilbird perched above. She watched Isabella with an amused look. But Isabella did not entertain her with a look of her own. She stared straight ahead while speaking.

“Kiev. I have to kill him.”

Maria said nothing for a while, and then smiled. “Can't let my little sister go somewhere without protection. I'm coming with you.”

Isabella knew it was pointless to object, and they loaded supplies into a military jet, taking it out onto the runway. Isabella and Maria sat as the pilots, ready for whatever Russia was going to throw at them. Both remembered that they had been pilots before, and they knew they could do it again

The plane took off, and both grinned, their memories of war coming back.

“It always was more fun when we were allies.” Isabella said, letting a smile cover her face before taking the controls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> German  
> Mutti-mother  
> Ich liebe dich-I love you
> 
> French  
> Merde-shit/piece of shit


	10. Chapter 10

Canada found it hard to believe that they had slipped away in the middle of the night, charting a course to Kiev.

“They’re idiots! They'll be killed! There’s a price on their heads!”

Cuba said nothing, simply watching her pace. Mexico was arriving later that day. She'd been flying troops in as soon as Russia had launched an attack on the first aircraft carrier to enter “his side of the Atlantic”. Their army was still small, but the

Russians had no chance when every man, woman, and child they controlled had risen up against them.

Finally, Canada grabbed a set of warm clothes. “I'm going after them.” She snapped.

Cuba and Hungary stood up, startled. “Canada, this army needs you!” Hungary said, grabbing her arm.

She shook her head and shoved Elizaveta’s hand away. “They need Prussia. They need Isabella. They need you, Carlos, and you, Elizaveta. They need Esperanza. I don't have any soldiers here. I just represent a Nation that rolled over and played dead once my brother fell and we learned our allies in Europe were gone. I am nothing.”

Cuba took her by the shoulders. “You aren’t nothing! You didn't play dead! You set in motion a plan which is going to free Europe and the rest of the world! A plan to save your daughters and free the planet! And goddamnit, you're going to see it all the way through with _me_!”

Canada stared at him in shock, and Hungary, sensing the mood, left them alone. “Cuba…” Madeline began, startled, but he continued.

“I gave you that favor not because I owed you, which I did, but because I care about you. I never said anything before the war because you were so happy with Prussia. I didn't want to complicate your feelings or make you hate me! I protected Maria because you asked, kept you as my ally because I loved you, and promised that I would make sure that once this war began, Russia never got to lay his filthy hands on you ever again!”

Canada suddenly wrapped her arms around him and hugged him so tight, Cuba had to wonder if she was trying to strangle him or crush him. Then she began to cry.

“Hey, it's going to be okay.” He said, wrapping his arms around her as she sobbed.

“When did I become the King in this game of chess, Carlos?! Why is it so important to have me?! I barely mattered before, now everyone needs me and I don't know what I want, much less what I need! I miss papa, and dad, and even Al! I miss Gil, and Katyusha, and I miss you! We aren't the same anymore! Nothing is the same anymore!”

Carlos consoled her until her tears had stopped, and she fell asleep in his arms, exhausted by everything that had happened. He tucked her into a bedroll and went outside.

Mexico was waiting for him, and she nodded once she saw him. “The troops are here. China is remaining neutral, Vietnam is expressing support for us. How are the young ones?”

“Maria and Isabella are in Kiev to lure Russia into Ukraine.”

Esperanza went silent. While Maria considered Madeline her mother, Esperanza still considered Maria her daughter.

_“_ _These wars really made the world a mess, didn't they?”_ He asked, sighing as he sat.

_“What did you think would happen, Carlos? You and Vietnam had the smallest empires, and they still cover more territory than Rome ever held. No matter what you did, you were doomed to failure.”_

Cuba nodded. “When this is over, I will restore the Caribbean. Except for Gitmo. It was mine to start with, and neither America or his successor can ever have it again.”

“No one blames you for that.” Mexico said, and sat down with him.

 

Belarus had never seen her brother so insane. Even when he had taken over Europe, she'd never seen him like this. And it scared her.

Ukraine was crying constantly from the pain of the fighting. The majority of fighting was taking place there. Poland was also suffering, but Natalia had no idea how well he was holding up, as Lithuania kept him far away from the others, worried they would hurt him.

After he had sent the email to Cuba, he had returned to care for them in their pain. He was hiding his own wounds, she was sure.

She felt sick herself, and finally called Lithuania to her room. He sat down next to her and she spoke quietly.

“He's dying, isn't he?”

Lithuania didn't respond at first, but then he nodded. “I think he is.”

She said nothing, feeling too ill to respond. Liet put another blanket over her.

“Liet?”

He turned. She'd never used that nickname before.

“I'm sorry about some of the things I've done in the past. Not all, but some.”

He smiled. “I'll assume that's the fever talking and wait for you to say that after this is all over.”

She meant to tell him she really meant it, but he began to hum a lullaby, and soon her eyes shut, and she drifted off into a world of dreams.

Lithuania smiled as Belarus fell asleep. Better for her to rest now. Even if Russia died, the fighting could continue for months.

He prayed that it wouldn't.

 

Russia watched the two figures as they talked to a group of Ukrainian rebels. He threw down his binoculars and grinned. “Oh, sweet, sweet fools.”

Maria would have to go first. He knew that the General would be unable to side between him and Irina as they were both his descendants. And besides, she was still a child. Perhaps more grown now than she had been before, but still a child. Maria was the larger threat out of the two of them. Once he had disposed of both of them, Canada would be his once more.

He looked at his men, and gave them the signal.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! To everyone who has read this all the way through, I want to thank you. This story was over a year in the making, and after several drafts, you have the story currently before you, so different from draft to draft that you would only recognize the first chapter in the original draft!  
> Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy!

The sound of the machine gun fire had both of them hit the ground, men screaming as bullets tore through flesh. Isabella looked up to see Maria crawling up into the gunner’s nest built into the wall to try and protect the other soldiers. Quickly, they clambered behind walls and vehicles, aiming for the enemy, wherever they might be. Isabella knew she needed to get behind that wall and help, but something was stopping her.

Suddenly she felt something touch her, and her vision clouded.

_“It's time, my granddaughter.”_

She looked up and saw numerous spirits of dead nations. Not only Kievan Rus, but France, England, and America. Romano stood in the back, armed with a basket of tomatoes. Next to him was Spain, laughing while he took a tomato for himself. Germany with his blond hair brushed back, and blue eyes shining. Austria, simply nodding his approval. Rome, giving her a thumbs up. She knew them from the legends. Photos.

They were here for her.

_“We are here.”_

_“We have chosen you.”_

_“We won't leave your side.”_

_“Only you can restore order.”_

France stepped up to her and smiled.

_“Not Irina, nor Isabella. You have another name, child.”_

She nodded, and her grandfather smiled as he spoke.

_“My Anya.”_

 

Maria was amazed to see Isabella walking forward calmly, towards the enemy. She was going to have to go out and rescue the stupid Slav!

But the bullets seemed to be going around her, and Maria saw sparks hitting something almost invisible to her. She squinted.

In the faint light of dawn, she saw an orange shield forming around the young girl. She looked back towards Maria, but her eyes weren't the dark blue she had inherited from Canada.

They were gold.

Isabella turned and kept walking and Maria kept firing to protect her, praying for this to be the end of this whole bloody, messed up war, which had in truth, never really stopped since the day Russia invaded Ukraine.

 

The glow of those golden eyes was enough for Russia to realize he had made a mistake, one he had never calculated for. His soldiers screamed as she walked past them, but she didn't respond to their point blank fire. She kept coming towards him, and there was vengeance in her eyes.

_Golden eyes!_

_“Remember me?”_ A woman's voice asked.

Ivan pulled out his pipe to fend off this vision of his past. “You died long ago! You are no more!

The figure laughed and changed, as did the voice. Bright blue eyes...

_ “What about me, Ivan? You called me a pig. In return, you were a bastard. We had such fun, making the world play our little games.” _

Russia closed his eyes. The soldiers were still shouting, but they weren't shooting.

Green eyes. _“You knew he would rather die than live without me. Was I that much of a threat, Russia? Was I truly that much of a danger to you?”_

He swung a fist at her, but she caught it, brown eyes this time. _“Kill my grandsons and suffer my wrath. I was one of the first empires. And I pray to God that you are the last.”_

The whole world was melting away, and when Russia opened his eyes, they were in an empty field, in a world that was not their own. The orange gold glow faded away from his daughter.

Dark blue eyes met his, almost expressing pity. “You never could admit you were dying, could you, father?”

He glared at his child.

“You had a chance. You wanted us to be a great empire, and we would have been! But you poisoned yourself with dreams of Canada.” His daughter accused. “You went past the point of no return in your desire for her!”

Russia growled. “She is mine. A prize. I won her!” He snarled at the girl.

“Yet, without her, you would have succeeded.” She stared at him long and hard. “I am but a child to you, but in truth you are the child. You knew Canada would destroy you, but you had to take her for yourself. You ate the apple of Eden when you raped my mother. And now it will be your downfall.”

He ran at her, lifting his pipe to destroy her, but her hand stopped him as easily as if he was brandishing a twig. He didn't even have the strength left to break a single bone. He felt all the injuries rushing into his body, tearing themselves open once more. If he had just been able to destroy Maria as a child, or kill Irina before she learned the truth… But it was too late. She had lured him away from Russia, and now she was able to take back the life he had stolen from her.

“I came to replace you. You planned my demise since my very birth in such a way so that you could keep her. You played her into your hands, but it was your move that led to your own downfall. You kept me alive.”

Suddenly, he could see them. All the spirits that protected her. They looked at him with pity. They knew what he had once been.

And now they knew what he had become.

Eyes closing, he fell to his knees, accepting defeat. He had know it was coming for a while, in truth, but he refused to admit it to himself. Those carefully laid lies, the false kidnapping in an attempt to draw Maria into Europe. It had all failed. He would die.

“Only one last question. What's your true name?”

“Anya.” She answered. “My name is Anya.”

Then she took her father's hands and allowed years of pain to flow into herself. She was Russia. Born to Kievan Rus, sister of Ukraine and Belarus. She had fought in wars, loved men and women, felt pain and suffering. She had used a blade of ice to slay her enemies and forced the world to play games with her and America. She had killed and would continue to kill, but she had also loved, and would continue to love.

She opened her eyes, and the spirits which had protected her were gone. She was Russia, and only Russia. They would move on. They would be reborn, as they had been waiting to do.

A ghostly hand was set on her shoulder and she smiled as the cold creeped in.

“Ah, General Winter.” She said, relishing his return.

There was no voice at this moment, but she knew he was approving of what she had done. She looked down to see what was left of her father.

The body of a man, covered in scars and more. A once noble man.

Her father.

She picked him up and kissed his brow, shutting his eyes. And then, he suddenly dissolved into dust, blowing away on the wind, leaving only a scarf behind as evidence of his existence. She was shocked, but she also understood that this is what it meant to be him and also herself.

He was part of her now, part of her history.

She took the sacred piece of fabric made by Ukraine and wrapped it around her neck. She closed her eyes and sighed. “It's time to go home.”

_“Of course, Mother Russia.”_ Kievan Rus whispered, and then took her hand. _“We will take you home.”_

 

Canada awoke to see a young woman meditating in the room, wearing a pale pink scarf around her neck. She stared at the girl, so clearly her daughter, yet she also seemed different now.

The woman opened her eyes and dark blue met dark blue. “Isabella…” Madeline began, but she was cut off by the girl.

“Anya. That's my true name, mother. France gave it to me.”

Canada blinked, and then her daughter touched the scarf. “The soldiers still fight, but the war is done. Moscow’s government has collapsed. I must go soon and restore order in order to truly end the fighting.”

They both stood, and Canada embraced her daughter. “Oh, baby. You grew up while I wasn't watching.”

They stood in silence, and then Russia disconnected their arms. “He loved you, but in the wrong ways. But I know that you should only hold a place in my heart, rather than in my life.”

“I will always be your mother, Anya. You are not your father, and you will always hold a place in my life as well as my heart.” Canada said, holding her close.

“And I will always be your daughter, Canada.” Anya said, and she cried in relief as she realized she had just been accepted by the one person she had always longed to be loved by.

 

When Prussia returned a few weeks later, she found Canada and Cuba speaking excitedly about a cruise of some sort. She said nothing at first, until they noticed her presence at the edge of the room..

“Maria.” Cuba said, standing. Canada stood up as well, staring at her daughter. Her eyes were completely red now. No tint of blue.

“I see you notice the difference, mutti. I believe that Germany will be reborn soon. Perhaps that is why I no longer have his eyes.” Her voice was cool and calm.

Cuba left the room after a few moments, and Canada approached. “You're a Nation now. Russia has reinstated Prussia.”

Maria shook her head. “She thinks she can restore order so easily. Fool.” But it was a soft tone which expressed affection for the young girl.

They said nothing, and then Maria spoke. “Madeline, I…”

Canada's gaze silenced her. “No, Prussia. It could no longer work.”

The silence was immense, and then Maria offered her hand. “Friends, then?”

Madeline nodded. “Friends.”

Prussia turned to leave.

“Maria?”

“What?”

“There is someone you need to make amends with.”

She paused and looked at Canada, who spoke a soft sentence.

“I think we both know that I have never been your mother. I may share traits with you, but Anya is my child. You are not.”

Maria felt like she was being rejected. “Mutti…”

“I am your mother in one way, perhaps, but Maria, we both know who your real mother is.”

_“Sing the alphabet for me, Maria.”_

_“Are you sure you're not still hungry?”_

_“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!”_

_“You don't really consider me your mother, do you?"_

_“Te amo, Maria.”_

Maria looked at Canada, and Canada gave her a bittersweet smile. “I will always be your mother. But I am not the only one, and she needs your love. Go to her. Apologize.”

“But what if she refuses? I was always… Harsh…”

Canada smiled. “She will still love you. Trust me. Parent’s intuition. Go.”

Maria nodded and left.

 

Mexico watched her new president be sworn in. The next few months would pass smoothly, she prayed. Cuba had not completely left yet at her request, as she worried about the cartels attempting to seize control if they made a power vacuum before the new government proved itself.

But she was proud. Once again, her own flag flew over her country. Red, white, and green, the eagle and the snake. She was Mexico once more.

She slipped away from the inauguration. She would head home and cook something for her new president. It might make the awkward introduction of herself easier.

She stepped inside her house and smelled something already cooking. She reached for a knife she kept next to the door, always on the lookout for intruders.

Then she heard the voice.

“Gilbird, out of the flour! Alright, now I need three eggs and… Oh, where did I set them?”

Esperanza set down the knife and went straight for the kitchen.

Maria was there, long hair tied back, her eagle walking over the counter. She shoved her face right back into the flour.

“Gilbird, I told you to stop that!”

“She has as much obedience as you do.” Esperanza said as she watched the eagle. Both Maria and Gilbird turned in surprise.

“Esperanza… I wasn't expecting you for at least another two hours. Aren't you supposed to be at the inauguration?”

“Cuba can explain the whole nation thing to him. I was tired and wanted to come home. You should have told me you were coming over.”

“I wanted this to be a surprise.” Maria muttered, looking down at her ingredients. Mexico smiled, coming up to lean on her. The girl had gotten taller than her.

_Well, it was bound to happen someday._

Maria paused, and then spoke. “Esperanza…”

“What?”

“I'm sorry.”

She blinked. “For what?”

“For not being a good daughter when I had a mother who deserved the world.”

Esperanza blinked, and then Maria spoke another sentence.

_“Te amo, mamá.”_

Esperanza blinked, and then felt the tears rush to her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Maria, and Maria hugged her back.

_“Te amo demasiado, niña. Bienvenido a casa.”_

 

_Several years later…_

Maddie followed the sound of a crying child, Kuma at her side. The thick brush was hard to get through, but she'd find him. She wouldn't give up until she did.

For the last decade, Canada had claimed the lands of the US as a protectorate until a new stable government could be established. Chaos had kept that from happening as time passed. But now the winds were changing.

She moved a tree branch to the side and suddenly she saw him. Skinned knees, a white gown covered in dirt, tears flowing down his face.

“America?” She called out to him.

He looked at her with a scared expression, Nantucket still present, and his sky blue eyes. He was the brother she remembered, not a stranger.

“I'm Canada, your sister.” She said, kneeling down so he could see her better.

The boy suddenly smiled as big as he could and ran to her, clinging tightly once he reached her. “Canada!”

She smiled and swept him up into her arms. He clung to her shirt as she carried him back, Kuma trotting behind.

In her home stood two teenagers, fighting like always. Despite their appearance, they had only been around again for about five years.

“Francis, Arthur, we have a new guest!” She announced, ending their fighting. They both grinned as they saw the bundle, remembering him clearly.

“Hello, little Amérique!” Francis cheerfully said.

“Ignore the frog, Alfred. Come stay with me.” England responded, offering his arms out to America, who began to squirm towards him. Canada handed him over to Arthur, knowing he would throw an absolute fit if she handed him to France. England and France were still in the process of rebuilding their countries, so they lived with her for now.

France pouted, until Canada took his hand. “Let's go cook.”

He smiled and began to dominate the kitchen. Eventually Canada surrendered control and allowed him to do as he would. It was a little strange remembering that this young man was her father, but soon enough she knew he would return to the way he had once looked, and she would almost be able to say that this had all been a bad dream, if not for Maria and Anya.

Soon, the three nations would be able to return home. Maybe France and England would forget her in favor of America once more, but she didn't mind.

In Europe, Hungary toted Austria and Germany around like there was no tomorrow. Italy kept Spain and Romano under his gaze. Finland and Sweden raised the other Nordics, though Denmark was resentful of it all. Rome and Germania had temporarily returned as well, their two sons Derrick and Lovi were Germany and Romano, after all. Prussia claimed that Romulus and Else had been there with her all along, but Canada thought that sounded like bullshit. It didn't matter if she'd met the human who later held their spirits. Rome, at least, had definitely been with Anya.

The door opened again, and Canada went to answer it, finding Cuba holding up a tub of ice cream. “So, rejoice tonight now that we have that pain in the ass named America back?”

She laughed and hugged him. “Sure.”

He smiled and kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling a happy feeling rising from her heart.  
The world was still strange, difficult to understand, and frustrating, but she had a family again. That family now included Russia and Prussia, but she had a family. What happened next… Well, who knew, but she would face it as she had before. With strength, bravery, dignity, and honor.

Under a banner of red and white stood a woman in her home, at peace with what had become of the world she dearly loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> German  
> Mutti-mother
> 
> Spanish  
> Te amo-I love you  
> Te amo, mamá.-I love you, mom.  
> Te amo demasiado, niña. Bienvenido a casa.-I love you too, girl. Welcome home.
> 
> French  
> Amérique-America

**Author's Note:**

> Translations
> 
> Russian  
> мой ангел - my angel  
> Нет, ангел. - No, angel
> 
> French  
> bâtard - bastard  
> merde - shit  
> Aller te faire foutre, Russie. - Go fuck yourself, Russia  
> Prusse - Prussia  
> mon amour - my love


End file.
